


Anakin the Padawan

by ceridwen_2020



Series: Rewriting the Prequel Trilogy [2]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin and Padme try to ignore their love for each other, Assassination Attempt(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Decapitation, F/M, Gen, Lightsaber Battles (Star Wars), Space Battles, attempted execution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 74,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27331546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceridwen_2020/pseuds/ceridwen_2020
Summary: Continuing the adventures of Anakin Skywalker, now a Padawan training to be a Jedi under the supervision of Obi-wan Kenobi. Following the events on Naboo that saw the defeat of the CLONE, the Republic is under siege from a baffling series of assassination attempts targeting particular senators, including Padme Amidala.In this brief introduction, Anakin and Obi-wan get to grips with a bounty hunter. There is a fight and a decapitation.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Rewriting the Prequel Trilogy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995421
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

“There he is.” The young man passed the electro-binoculars to his colleague.  
Holding them to his eyes, the older man adjusted the focus until he could see more clearly. It worried him that his eyes were clearly not as good as his companion’s. “Ah yes.”  
Pulling out a holopad, the younger man scanned it quickly, “Target’s name is Th’an Fett. Occupation; bounty hunter, general scumbag and member of the Fett clan.”  
“What’s his status?”  
“Be careful on approach, subject likely to be armed.” He turned the holopad off and said flippantly, “This one’s dangerous.”  
“Who writes these descriptions?” sighed his colleague, still peering at the target. “It doesn’t give us much… Wait a minute, someone else is coming.”  
“Who is it?” They were lying on their bellies behind a ridge of soil, before them sampra grasses swayed in the breeze, rustling gently. He shifted a little to make himself more comfortable.  
“Subject appears to be humanoid,” muttered the other, “about two meters tall… are you making a note of this?”  
“In my head, Master.” Looking across the mud flats he could see the two targets as dark specks against the blue of the sky, too small to make out any details. “Carry on.”  
“Two meters tall…”  
“Got that. What do they look like?”  
“I can’t see their face.”  
“Why?” He squinted, trying to make out the indistinct shape.  
“Because he is wearing a hood.” His colleague was beginning to sound a trifle irritated, but thinking about it, the being was dressed in a dark cloak that looked suspiciously like something a Jedi would wear.  
“Run that by me again,” he looked sharply at his elder colleague.  
“It’s not a Jedi.”  
They looked at each other.  
“Let’s go!”  
Both of them pelted through the grass. A flock of nesting birds rose into the air hooting in alarm. But they were fast; by the time their targets spun round to face them they had already reached the edge of the mudflats, their feet pounding the glistening surface, the watery mud splattering up onto their boots and tunics.  
“Hello there,” called out the elder of the two, hoping that they wouldn’t object to them interrupting their conversation.  
“Drop!”  
Both Jedi fell to the ground rolling with the momentum as streams of laser headed their way.  
“They’re not pleased to see us then,” remarked Obi-wan as he came to a damp halt in a puddle. For reasons of security, and for comfort, he removed his lightsaber from his belt.  
“What’s the other one waiting for?” The bounty hunter was taking pot shots at them from behind his speeder but the dark-clad figure had not moved.  
“Maybe he’s shy?” propelling himself upwards, Obi-wan deflected more laser back towards where the bounty hunter was cowering.  
“Than we should introduce ourselves,” Anakin was soon running beside him.  
“I’ll let you go first.” He was intent on stopping Fett.  
It was not long before the caped figure moved; the hood fell back to reveal a female, her red hair swept back from a high forehead, the fleshy protuberances either side of her blazing eyes denoting that she was not human. Brandishing a red-lit lightsaber she leapt towards Anakin, a snarl on her lips, at the same time flinging out her left hand to send masses of cataclysmic energy towards the two Jedi. The edge of the surge caught Anakin on his left flank, sending him flying giddily into the air and landing with a splash where he had been lying moments previously. Obi-wan missed the worst of it and met the red light with his sabre of blue, feeling the brutal strength of their adversary as her weapon bore down upon his. Yet he sensed that despite her strength, her command of the Force was less focused. This assertion was proved correct when he easily blocked a number of clumsy moves; but then the bounty hunter was shooting at him again and his adversary seized her advantage, knocking his sabre from his hand, forcing him to dive out the way, “Blast it Anakin! Where are you?”  
There was a shout and Anakin appeared, swinging his saber with alarming proficiency and blocking several shots that would have finished Obi-wan in mere seconds. Spinning round gracefully he met the lightsaber; another swift move and several rounds of laser dissipated harmlessly against his sabre.  
Meanwhile Obi-wan called his lightsaber to him. “Fett’s gone!” he yelled to Anakin.  
Looking round, the younger Jedi saw the bounty hunter had taken the opportunity to run away.  
It was the distraction she needed. Launching herself at Anakin she spun and kicked him hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Then with a blood-curdling yell the warrior flung her hands out at Obi-wan as he headed after the bounty hunter, the terrible dark energy hitting him in the back with such force he pitched forwards onto the mud. Snarling, the cloaked figure ran towards him, raising her sabre high above her head.  
Leaping to his feet, Anakin raced after the warrior. He sensed her desperation. Moving only with instinct, the blue light flickered across his peripheral vision. She was so close… It was only when he opened his eyes that he realised that they had been closed when his lightsaber had struck.  
A cloak was slowly crumpling to the ground; following it, falling from the neck of his opponent, was the head with its brightly coloured mane. It hit the ground, rolling across the mud until it came to rest in a small depression, the snarl still on her lips but the light faded from her eyes.  
An exhausted Anakin collapsed to his knees, barely able to breathe for the tightness in his chest. Fett was still on the loose but there was no way he was running after any bounty hunter in his condition.  
“Where’s Fett?”  
Anakin looked up to see Obi-wan, his face and tunic covered in slimy mud, “You stink!”  
“You let him get away then.”  
“I didn’t let him get away,” Anakin’s breathing was finally returning to normal, “I was saving your skin.”  
“Oh yes, thank you.” Obi-wan flopped down beside him, grateful for the rest. He looked over to where the head of their adversary lay peacefully in the mud. “According to the Jedi Council there have been no Sith in the Galaxy for hundreds of years,” he mused, “and yet, we just met one.”  
“We should take her lightsaber for proof,” said Anakin, massaging his arm where he had fallen to alleviate the remaining pain.  
“Good idea. Then there is the matter of Fett,” continued Obi-wan, “We should really be getting after him. Still he’s probably got too much of a head start.”  
Sighing, Anakin gazed into the distance in the likely direction Fett had taken. “Wait,” he said after a moment’s thought, “it might be possible. After all he is on foot.”  
“What are you babbling on about?”  
Anakin pointed out the obvious to his companion, “Fett left his speeder behind.”  
“So he did.” Obi-wan did not appear to rate the idea.  
“Come on.” Anakin was already getting up, “As you said, we can’t go back empty-handed.”  
“If you think I’m getting in a speeder with you, think again.”  
Anakin, who was already halfway towards the transport, called back over his shoulder, “Come on and stop dawdling.”  
Sighing, Obi-wan dragged himself up and set off after his far-too exuberant pupil. Already that day they had been up since dawn tracking their quarry through the mudflats, surviving on concentrated foodstuffs and painstakingly watching the same piece of ground for hours on end. Now they had just fought what appeared to be a Sith acolyte and he was going to have to endure a terrifying ride in a speeder courtesy of Anakin Skywalker. But then nobody said the life of a Jedi would be easy.


	2. If it rains, it pours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning to Coruscant, Senator Padme is horrified when a carefully timed bomb destroys her ship and murders most of her entourage, including her trusted security officer, Captain Panaka. The calls for a central army to protect the Republic against the CLONE are gaining momentum as uprisings increase around the galaxy, and the Jedi increasingly come under strain.

Streaking through space, the Nubian cruiser was merely a blip on the consciousness of the stars and systems it passed, safely ensconced in the embrace of hyperspace. Inside the plain interior, a dark-clad figure made its way along the corridor, face shadowed beneath a large hood. Coming to a panel set into the wall, a slim, dark-skinned hand extended out from inside a long, trailing sleeve and pressed a button. Instantly the door slid open and the figure went inside.  
“My lady?” Coming over to a bench at the far end of the chamber, Corday looked at her mistress expectantly.  
Too engrossed in reading, the dark-haired Padmé Naberrie, otherwise known by her adopted title of Amidala, Senator of Naboo, barely noticed the hushed voice of her handmaiden.  
There was perhaps something disconcerting about their resemblance but anyone who took a closer look would notice that the similarity was only superficial.  
“Excuse me, my lady.” She ended the sentence with a loud cough.  
Finally Padmé looked up, a little flustered. “Yes, Corday. What is it?”  
The handmaiden smiled slightly, wondering what could be contained in the message that her mistress was reading. “We have begun our descent towards Coruscant.”  
“Very good.”  
“My lady, you are not reading those terrible messages again are you?” Corday looked at her with some concern.  
“No, but I would like your opinion.” Padmé patted the seat beside her, “Tell me what you think of this.”  
Taking the proffered holopad, Corday gladly took a seat next to her mistress, tucking the long skirts of her gown beneath her. As her eyes scanned down the holopad, her eyes opened wide. “My lady!”  
“Do you think it to be true?”  
“Whoever wrote it must admire you very much,” sighed Corday, handing the holopad back to her mistress, “as any sensible person would.”  
“I think he only seeks to flatter me,” said Padmé primly, turning it off.  
Corday laughed at her mistress’ protestations. “You don’t believe in love at first sight then?”  
“It is only the passions that are stirred,” asserted Padmé, throwing the holopad to one side, “and they are often transient. It does not always lead to enduring love. Why, Corday, do you think it can exist?”  
“I do, my lady.”  
She fell silent for a moment. “For some, love is more of an affliction than a joy.”  
Before Corday could reply, the door to the hold slid open and Captain Panaka entered. Bowing to the Senator, he announced, “My lady, we have arrived.” 

It was early morning and everything was shrouded in dense clouds, only the uppermost tops of the towers poking through. Drizzle splattered forcefully against the viewport as the silver cruiser swooped down towards the city.  
Another cheery welcome to Coruscant, thought Padmé dismally. It had been only months since she had last been to the capital and then it had rained incessantly. She wondered if it would ever stop. With the rain and the disappearance of the lively banter of her handmaidens, she suddenly felt the weight of her purpose descend upon her.  
“Are you having second thoughts?” asked Captain Panaka next to her, looking at the young woman with some concern. It had taken them a while to negotiate the stringent security checks in place, reminding him of the need for extra vigilance.  
“Captain, we are opposed to the escalation of this conflict. It is imperative that we make our opposition known.”  
“You are braver than me, my lady,” said the Captain, making sure his blaster was close to hand. “I would not be here by choice. I am surprised that you have not taken these death threats more seriously.”  
“That is all they are, threats,” said Padmé solemnly. “And idle threats at that.”  
“Yet the assassination of senators does not seem an idle threat to me,” commented Panaka.  
The Senator looked at him. “By showing our fear we will allow them to win.”  
The ship was slowing down, eventually coming to rest on the landing platform. The engines were magnified in the dampness of the air.  
“We have landed, my lady,” reported Ric Olie over the communicator. “Due to the weather the deputation are saying that they will meet you inside the terminal.”

Senator Amidala followed Captain Panaka and the rest of her extensive entourage out of the hold and into the corridor. For her safety she was sandwiched between two sets of guards, over-zealous in the Senator’s mind but it kept Panaka happy.  
The main hatch was open at the far end of the corridor. From outside, the cold air whispered its way in, seeking warmer pockets to infiltrate and destroy.  
The forward group reached the top of the ramp when Panaka paused.  
Everyone halted.  
“What is it?” Padmé could see Panaka conferring with security at the front of the group but she couldn’t hear what was happening.  
“I am uncertain my lady, shall I find out?” asked Moteé helpfully.  
She stopped her with her hand on her arm. “No, I’m sure it will be nothing. We will wait.”  
“My lady, you’ll catch a cold if you go out like that.”  
Turning round she saw Dormé coming towards her with a thick, enveloping cape. “I’ll be fine, it’s not far to the terminal.”  
“My lady, I insist,” replied Dormé, used to the Senator’s forgetfulness where her comfort was concerned.  
Adamant that the actual exposure to rain would be slight, Padmé was about to reiterate her dislike of fuss when there was a sudden burst of noise.  
The Senator and her handmaidens were thrown hard towards the side of the corridor.  
Dormé sat up, clutched her forehead. Her temples were throbbing angrily and she hoped the loud ringing in her ears was not a permanent feature. “What happened?”  
There was a moan from beside her.  
“My lady? Are you alright?”  
“I’m fine,” said Padmé woozily, raising herself onto sore elbows. Her body ached where she had hit the floor of the cruiser and something was caught in her hair, almost choking her.  
“What do you think it was?” Moteé was injured, a thin line of blood running from her scalp.  
“It felt like an explosion,” coughed Corday, helping her mistress to disentangle her hair from the long strands of beads around her neck.  
“We need to get help immediately,” Padmé said to them. “No, wait, stay here all of you whilst I look for Panaka.”  
“Wait my lady, there might be more…” But her caution fell onto the empty air.

At the end of the corridor where the exit hatch had been there was a scene of devastation; the entire front end of the ship had been blown away, leaving a wide gaping hole, tattered remnants of the hull flapping in the breeze.  
Stepping carefully to the edge Padmé could see a number of bodies scattered across the platform, blown apart by the blast and half soaked in the pouring rain.  
“Captain Panaka?” she called, when she could not see him. Crouching, she lowered herself from the damaged ship, being careful not to catch herself on the jagged metal, and landed daintily on the landing platform. More insistently: “Captain!”  
But there was no reply.  
Swallowing back feelings of nausea from the stench of broken bodies, she searched the torn faces lying amongst collecting puddles. But there were no survivors. Every face she knew. It was heartbreaking. Finally she found the Captain. He was still breathing but barely. She collapsed to her knees, feeling wretched. “Captain…?”  
“I am sorry my lady,” whispered Panaka, knowing he was dying, “we… we could have… prevented…”  
“No, no,” said Padmé, feeling helpless, seeing his life ebb away, “don’t…”  
“Be… careful…my lady. Be careful…” His voice grew steadily weaker as he breathed his last.  
Padmé could only watch as his eyes closed and he fell silent, her lip trembling with suppressed sorrow.  
“My lady?”  
She looked up to see a security guard behind her, Moteé with him. As she climbed to her feet she became aware of the steadily growing chaos upon the landing platform as security swarmed around the scene, checking the damage, helping her terrified retinue to the terminal and collecting scattered belongings.  
And with the job that no organic was expected to manage, droids were zipping about the platform, clearing up the terrible mess. Fortunately much had already been washed away in the cleansing rain.  
“We must go, my lady.”  
Nodding dumbly, she allowed them to take her arm, to lead her into the terminal.

The rain continued all day, quite unusual for that time of year. It washed the streets and engulfed the drains, disturbing choking rubbish that had lain dormant for weeks until everywhere was flooded with water and litter. Even the area around the grandest buildings of the Republic, the Senate and offices of the Chancellor, could not escape the consequences of the downpour.  
Pulling their cloaks over their heads, senators scurried up the steps to the imposing entrance, hurrying to get in from the rain. Most unprecedented it was, they muttered to each other, as if things were not unsettled enough already. The decision to go to war against the CLONE was not lightly taken, nor was the convening of an army large enough to meet their enemies. An army would cost money and would mean the requisitioning of troops, and not all systems were equally committed.  
Inside the Senate was a seething hubbub of noise and disorder as the open debate became increasingly heated. Mas Amadda, secretary to the Chancellor, was attempting to create order out of the chaos that had engulfed proceedings. He turned his microphone up so loud that it nearly deafened the poor Chancellor beside him.  
“Order! Order! We must have order! The Chancellor concedes that it is an important point but we are here to discuss the assassination attempts not the Republic’s need for an army.”  
The chamber quietened down finally. Palpatine took centre stage, glancing around him with concern. “My esteemed colleagues, I know this is a difficult subject and I appreciate your concerns in ensuring it is discussed fairly and properly. But under no circumstances can we justify…”  
“How many more senators must be put at risk before our security is tightened?” interrupted a virulent voice, Senator Ood Gaban of Yaga Minor, “More and more refuse to journey to Coruscant. Our system is in deadlock. Without a show of strength the CLONE will continue to undermine us. We must call for the assembly of a Grand Republic Army now!”  
“What has happened to the Jedi in all this?” thundered another, “their numbers are dwindling, their ancient tricks and magic obsolete against the technology of the CLONE.”  
“My esteemed colleague,” replied Palpatine, at his most conciliatory, “the Jedi’s remit covers the entire Republic and they are doing all they can to assist us against the CLONE. It is the Jedi remember who were most anxious as we are to discover the reasons behind the assassination attempts and they are doing their utmost to bring the perpetrators to justice.”  
“Your Excellency,” the more moderate Fang Zar stepped into the debate, “we only ask that the evidence that has so far uncovered is made more transparent. There are nothing but rumours as to whom is perpetrating these attacks and it would be more constructive if we knew whom we were against.”  
“Most honoured colleague,” nodded the Chancellor, “I am aware of this concern as are intelligence. Much of whom are against us fall outside the jurisdiction of the Republic. We cannot hope for a swift end to this conflict, my friends, under the present system. We must be patient.”  
“We have been patient for ten years,” added the angrier voice of Ood Gaban, “How many more innocent citizens of this Republic must die before we even know who our enemies are? If the system does not work then we must change it. We need a larger army, it is the only way we can effectively meet the threat that the CLONE and the Separatists present to our freedom and our security!”  
“Believe me, if we declare war on the CLONE then our commitment to peace appears hollow, my valued friend,” said Palpatine wearily, “we are doing everything we can to continue diplomatic relations.”  
“With respect honourable comrade,” said the Senator of Sluis Van, entering the fray, “the situation is escalating every day. We opened diplomatic links with the CLONE over ten years ago at the beginning of their hostilities and nothing has come of them. They continue to cause chaos and misery for thousands of galactic citizens and yet we do nothing to stop them!”  
“Everyday we loose more systems to the CLONE,” asserted Ood Gaban, “peace is a noble aim but we must fight for it!”  
“I say we should continue to support the Chancellor’s attempts to secure peace,” replied one of the more pacifistic Senators, Bail Organa of Alderaan. “Most esteemed colleagues, we have heard all the arguments but we cannot escape the ultimate conclusion that the cause of action suggested by our noble colleague of Yaga Minor will lead to sustained and terrible war. The cost of life could be devastating. We should not jeopardize any further our route back to the peace that existed in the Galaxy since the formation of the Republic thousands of years ago…”  
The rest of his speech was drowned in the increasingly violent yells and disagreements coming from the tiered rows of the Senate.  
“Excuse me, your Excellency.”  
A note passed from one of the security guards distracted the Chancellor. “Thank you.”  
A murmur of discontent rippled through the Senate at this uncharacteristic disruption.  
“Order,” yelled Mas Amadda, his voice increasingly strained.  
“Please excuse me,” said the Chancellor eventually, “but I have had just received some disturbing news. It seems there has been another assassination attempt.”  
Murmurs of alarm rippled through the assembled delegates. Who was the target this time?  
“Considering the lateness of the hour and the intensity that this debate has initiated, I will adjourn the Senate until tomorrow.” Bowing sombrely, the Chancellor swept from the debating chamber.

Palpatine stood by the window of his palatial office, listening closely. There was a deep, permanent line cleaved into his forehead.  
“Jedi have been sent to Malastare, Eriadu and Illum,” as one of the Senators who had forged a link with the Jedi, Bail Organa was updating the Chancellor on the efforts to negate the actions of the CLONE. “There have been a number of uprisings against the Republic, no doubt triggered by CLONE agents, and we felt their abilities would serve us best.”  
“What about the search for this bounty hunter?” asked the Chancellor, “the Senate is most anxious to know what is being done to protect them against the increasing attacks.”  
“We do not believe it is the work of a single bounty hunter,” said Master Ki ali mundi, representative of the Council, “and we have lost many Jedi in pursuit of the perpetrators. But we have achieved some successes, only days ago Master Kenobi apprehended a Fett on Haruun Kal and Master Vos has established a lead on Concord Dawn that may…”  
The Chancellor started as the intercom bleeped on his desk, “Excuse me.” Going over to the desk he pressed the console, “Yes, what is it?”  
The tiny hologram of his aide chattered away for a moment.  
“Indeed, send her in,” replied the Chancellor, wiping the thin veil of sweat from his brow. “Senator Amidala is here. I suggest we continue this meeting later.”  
“My lady,” said Senator Organa, walking over to the young woman as she entered with the remains of her entourage. “We were saddened to hear of the terrible tragedy that befell you on your return to Coruscant.”  
“I am honoured for your concern, Senator,” said Padmé courteously. “I am fortunate to have survived the attack.”  
“We know this will be little comfort to you my lady, but we believe the attack on your ship was connected to the recent spate of attempts against the lives of our Senators,” remarked Ki ali mundi.  
“Chancellor Palpatine informs me that you are seeking the cause of these attacks?”  
“We are doing all we can, my lady,” replied the Jedi Master. “We believe we might be able to progress where the Senate has so far failed.”  
“And have you discovered anything?”  
“As you should expect, my lady” he smiled, gathering his loose robes about him as if to shield him from more questions, “that information is at present confidential so as not to jeopardise our colleagues.”  
“Of course.”  
“Be assured that we will investigate this transgression thoroughly. You, and your family, need not concern yourself with that.”  
Padmé bowed her head. “I only hope I may be privy to information as it becomes available.”  
“Forgive me,” said the Chancellor, coming over to join them, “but I believe that Senator Amidala’s fortunate survival may be of greater significance than we realise.”  
“I do not understand your meaning, your Excellency,” frowned the Jedi.  
Padmé also failed to see where the Chancellor’s comments were headed. “Pardon me, your Excellency?”  
“Bear with me, Senator, please.” The Chancellor raised an aged hand. “Whoever it was tried to assassinate you, my lady, will no doubt be unhappy that this plan was thwarted. Surely they will attempt something again?”  
“They might,” conceded Padmé, “but they might also target another Senator.”  
“I would rather consider your safety my lady. And if the Jedi wish to discover the perpetrators, the addition of a Jedi in your household could fulfil that function happily.”  
There was a silence as both Senators and the Jedi considered it.  
“The idea certainly has merit,” agreed Senator Organa.  
“It might illuminate us,” suggested Ki ali mundi, “although it goes against precedent to expect our colleagues to act as security.”  
“Oh, you misunderstand me,” said the Chancellor, smiling benevolently, “they would be protecting the Senator certainly but that would not have to constitute the bulk of their duties.”  
All eyes turned to the Senator.  
“Really Chancellor, there is no need for additional protection,” began Padmé, not wishing to have any restrictions placed upon her freedom.  
“Dark times are upon us, Senator,” interjected the Ki ali mundi gravely, “you may be in greater danger than you realise.”  
“As the leader of the opposition party it is likely you were targeted for that reason,” suggested Bail, his handsome face a picture of concern.  
“It is a reason I have entertained,” agreed Padmé, her determination eclipsing any concerns she had for her own safety.  
“And you would be helping the Jedi in their endeavours,” said the Chancellor gently, “Surely a few… additional restrictions on your movements, my lady, are worth preventing more of these attacks?”  
Half-heartedly, Padmé tried to assert a last cry for independence “Very well, but I ask that the Jedi assigned to me will not be too intrusive.”  
“I can assure you, Senator Amidala,” said Ki ali mundi, “that members of our Order will exercise all due discretion.”  
“Very well, I will accept the Jedi’s attachment to my retinue,” agreed Padmé.  
“May I enquire whom you might consider will carry out this task?” Palpatine asked the Jedi Master.  
“Indeed, your Excellency, Obi-wan Kenobi is set to return to Coruscant this evening. It would be sensible to combine his tasks here with the protection of the Senator.”  
“Excellent!” The Chancellor smiled at the Senator, “He is familiar to you is he not, my lady?”  
“Indeed he is,” said Padmé, feeling some relief that it was to be someone she knew and trusted. Sensing that there was some ulterior motive to the Chancellor’s request, she wisely remained silent, hoping it might make her privy to additional information she was otherwise excluded from.


	3. Friends reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Senator Amidala chafes under the protection of Anakin and Obi-wan but it turns out to be a prudent decision on the part of Chancellor Palpatine when another attempt on her life is made outside the Senate. Pursuing the would-be assassin, Anakin and Obi-wan find another connection to the Fetts.

Two Jedi walked together down the long corridor that ran through the length of the apartment building. One was tall and broad shouldered, dressed in the cream and brown robes he favoured, his hair betraying a slight reddish tinge under the artificial lighting. Beside him was a younger man, taller and more willowy than his colleague, the closely cropped hair and telltale braid of a trainee Jedi hanging to his right shoulder. His robes were similar to his elder colleague, layers of dull-coloured tunics, but ever so slightly different as if the wearer was attempting to assert some autonomy, however slender.  
Still frustrated about the assignment, Obi-wan turned to Anakin. “I never thought in all my years as a Jedi we would be performing security duties. It’s ridiculous.”  
“Especially since we were getting so close to the Fetts,” replied Anakin, equally annoyed at the Council’s decision. After five years of Jedi training, with all its implicit sacrifices, endless physical and intellectual exercises, and intense concentration, Anakin had been transformed. Gone was the gawky, straggly youth to be replaced by a slender, graceful and confident young man who carried himself with an air of authority. His fair hair framed a handsome face with high cheekbones, large, clear blue eyes and flawless skin. The power that he demonstrated in the Force was revealed in many facets to his character, his strong self-belief, the calmness of spirit, his lack of pretension and his personal charisma, which he used to great advantage. “I do not know why they recalled us, a few more days and we would have nailed them.”  
“Mind you, you get to see Padmé again,” smirked Obi-wan, pleased he had a reason to tease his student and relieve the seriousness of their recent missions.  
“Ha, I suppose you think that is a perk of the job?” If he was honest with himself, however, the intensity of Jedi training and missions had not caused him to forget the spirited and kind-hearted girl whom he had met on Tatooine all those years ago. However, the proximity of the Senate building to the Jedi Temple had not created the opportunity for a meeting with the young Senator and so far she had remained a figment of his memories.  
“If you want to call it a perk,” chuckled Obi-wan,” but there’s no need to be nervous, Anakin. I’m sure she won’t bite you.” It amused him that the otherwise fearless young man was becoming a bundle of nerves because of a young lady.  
“It’s been a long time,” replied Anakin, straightening his shoulders, concerned that his feelings were so transparent.  
“I’m sure Padmé will be pleased to see you.”  
“She probably still remembers me as some awkward youth she met on a hot, dusty planet.”  
“Then you can surprise her,” replied Obi-wan, hoping that the reunion was not going to be too awkward. “Anyway, remember that you are here to work, not to get reacquainted with the Senator.”  
“I know that Master. I am sure that Padmé is as serious and solemn about her duty as I am.”  
Obi-wan chuckled. “Glad to see some of the things I have taught you are sinking in, Anakin.”  
“Of course, Master,” it was a long running joke between them that Anakin always disregarded what Obi-wan had to say.  
They finally reached the entrance to the apartments reserved for the senator of Naboo. Moteé, one of several handmaidens symbolically attached to Padmé as a mark of Senatorial esteem, came out to meet them. “Greetings Master Jedi,” she said, “Senator Amidala is waiting for you.”

Although she understood the real meaning behind the assignment, Padmé remained unhappy about being perceived as some helpless Senator who needed a strong Jedi to protect her. Despite her annoyance, however, she could not help smiling as she rose and approached Obi-wan, the heavily embroidered skirts of her dress trailing behind her. “Master Obi-wan, I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see you. It has been such a long time.”  
He took her hand, bowing graciously. “It has, my lady. Far too long in fact.” Her words reminded him that time moved more slowly on Naboo compared to Coruscant due to the time it took the planet to orbit its sun - five years here must have seemed longer to the young Senator.  
“You have been busy I hear,” said the young woman with characteristic understatement, “When did you arrive back on Coruscant?”  
“Merely a couple of hours ago, we were sent here immediately.”  
“We?” asked Padmé with surprise.  
“Yes, there are two of us,” replied Obi-wan, indicating Anakin who was waiting on the far side of the room.  
“Why, they did not tell me I was to have two Jedi.” Looking over, Padmé realised that the young man accompanying Obi-wan looked strangely familiar.  
“Senator Amidala,” Seeing it was his cue to come forward, Anakin came over to the Senator and bowed gravely. “It is a pleasure to see you again after so long.”  
“It can’t be?” It was a moment before Padmé could reconcile the handsome and athletic Jedi in front of her with the malnourished, self-conscious young man she had met all those years ago. “Anakin? My, you have changed.”  
“I hope for the better, my lady.”  
“But I must protest,” continued Padmé in the same breath, turning back to Obi-wan, “one Jedi to protect me is surely enough?”  
“I’m afraid Anakin is still in training,” said Obi-wan authoritatively, to prevent her having any ideas to the contrary, “he must remain with me until that time is over. I hope that will not be an inconvenience to you, my lady.”  
“I suppose it won’t be,” she said, still marvelling at the younger Jedi, “perhaps it makes me special.”  
“You are very special, my lady...” said Anakin diplomatically.  
Obi-wan coughed.  
“...to the Jedi Order,” he continued, ignoring Obi-wan. “We were all very sorry to hear of the terrible tragedy on your arrival here.”  
“Thank you, Anakin.” Smiling to herself, she returned to her seat now that introductions were over, gesturing the two Jedi towards a second empty couch. “I expect they’ve filled you in on all the details.”  
“Not really,” said Obi-wan, taking a seat whilst Anakin remained standing; “all we have been told is that an attempt was made on your life. Of course we have details of the other assassinations but these are also somewhat limited.”  
Padmé nodded. “That is what concerns me. There are so few details.”  
“My lady, be assured that we will focus all our attention on these assassination attempts,” replied Obi-wan smoothly, “and shed some light upon this mystery.”  
Folding her hands carefully in her lap she said, “Master Obi-wan I will be frank. When the Chancellor suggested that I would need additional protection I was not altogether pleased. However, I have come to terms with the situation and I very much look forward to working with you to solve this mystery.”  
“I see,” said Obi-wan diplomatically, “I do not think my lady that you need to concern yourself with the minutiae of our investigations. Most of the time we will be investigating the links between all the assassinations, not focusing on this case alone, and as the Council will tell you, this must be kept confidential.”  
“I feel it is important that I am included,” said Padmé calmly, “after all it is I who is the target.”  
“We will see what we can do,” Obi-wan said eventually; without having to look at Anakin he knew that they both agreed the Senator was going to be a handful.  
“Master Kenobi,” said Captain Typho, who had been watching the interaction between the Senator and the Jedi with careful attention, “we were led to believe by Chancellor Palpatine that a Jedi would be attendant upon the Senator at all times. Was this the message given to you by the Council?”  
“It was and we suggest that Anakin be placed in charge of the Senator’s personal safety,” said Obi-wan, gesturing towards the young man. The idea had just come to him; what other way was there to deal with potential emotional weakness than by confronting it head on?  
Whilst Anakin nodded imperceptibly, Captain Typho looked less than pleased, “It is very well but are you certain that Anakin is skilled enough to meet the demands that will be placed upon him?”  
“Excuse me,” frowned Anakin, unable to keep quiet any longer, “I am more than capable.”  
“I assure you Captain,” Obi-wan said quickly, “that although Anakin is still in training he has mastered the Jedi arts remarkably quickly. Give him time to prove himself is all I ask.”  
Captain Typho did not look completely convinced, “I am concerned merely to ensure that the Senator is not exposed to avoidable danger.”  
“I have no concern with the arrangements as they stand,” Padmé interrupted, anxious that the three men would be arguing all afternoon, “but if you can agree on a strategy amongst yourselves then I would be very grateful. Until then if you’ll excuse me? I have work to do.”  
“Of course, my lady.”  
“Captain Typho, if you can go through the necessary household arrangements with Master Obi-wan and Anakin?”  
“Yes, my lady.”  
Bowing stiffly, Anakin and Obi-wan watched as the imperious senator left the room with her retinue, without giving them a second glance.  
“Master Kenobi, forgive me for my concerns. Be assured that we do appreciate your presence here.” Typho looked at Anakin as he said apologetically, “Both of you.”  
“No offence taken,” said the young Jedi generously.  
“I needed to impress upon the Senator how much danger she is in,” continued the Captain confidentially, “you see her attitude towards you, she sees it as an inconvenience rather than a real security concern”  
“I can understand your concerns, Captain,” said Obi-wan sombrely, “the attempt on the Senator’s life must have been a terrible shock but she is not one to give up her independence lightly.”  
“Indeed. The Senator will not admit it but she is concerned about her safety whilst she is on Coruscant.” Typho smiled wryly. “We best get the practical considerations over and done with. Would you like to see the security arrangements? We have our command centre downstairs.”  
“Of course,” replied the Jedi. “We will also need to have a look at the Senator’s private chambers, if we can.”  
“That can be arranged,” said Captain Typho, gesturing to an aide.  
“Anakin, wait here and when you can, ask the Senator if she will oblige,” said Obi-wan pleased to leave the placating of wilful senators to his younger friend.  
Unsettled by the tense atmosphere within the Senator’s apartments, Anakin was about to wander out onto the balcony to clear his head when the air around him moved, rippled towards him and enveloped him, a sensation akin to the soft caress of a hand against his cheek, along his arm. Turning round, he was not surprised to see Padmé watching him, a thoughtful expression on her face. “My lady…”  
“You need to see my private apartments?” She had obviously been listening in to their conversation.  
“Yes, to assess the security risk.”  
“Will it take long?”  
“I should not think so. Can I take a look now?”  
“I suppose.” Still watching him, she made not attempt to move. “Are you sure this is absolutely necessary?”  
“My lady, it is logical that an assassin would wish to strike you at your most vulnerable,” said Anakin without thinking, “most likely when you are alone and in bed.”  
“I see. Well you better make sure that my bedroom is the most safest place of all,” Padmé smiled at him sweetly as they entered her private apartments, imagining the fun she was going to have teasing the newly serious young man. “Maybe I will ask Master Kenobi if you should come and sleep in my room? If I’m in so much danger that is.”  
Anakin saw through her attempt to embarrass him. “You should be careful saying things like that, my lady. Master Kenobi might hear you and think I was using mind tricks on you.”  
“And would you?” Despite the seriousness of her expression there was a trace of amusement in her eyes.  
“No my lady, I doubt they would work.”  
As Anakin inspected her private bedroom and sitting room, Padmé watched him from her position by the window. Her face was studiously blank but inside her mind was in turmoil. What was Anakin doing back in her life and how had he become so attractive? Already unwanted feelings inflicted her, memories of the young man she had befriended during one of the worst periods of her life, but she knew it was pointless to think there could be anything more between them than a chance to indulge in some polite flirtation.  
“It all seems to be in order.” After a thorough check, he came back over to where Padmé was waiting for him. The opulence of the Senator’s private rooms had not surprised Anakin now that he was used to life on Coruscant but he could not help comparing it to the living conditions in the Jedi Temple, which were much more spartan. Everything around the Senator was designed for her comfort and ease, the opposite to the life of a Jedi.  
“Did you find anything out of place?” Padmé put down the list of notes she was reading for her meeting later in the Senate.  
“There are some vulnerable points,” said Anakin stiffly, “but I shall be reporting on those to Obi-wan.”  
“Very good.” She still felt awkward in his presence.  
Anakin sensed her anxiety and decided it was time to leave rather than make small talk, “I will be going then, my lady.”  
“I expect Master Kenobi has more for you to do.”  
“He likes to keep me busy.”  
“I imagine it is for your own good.”  
He laughed. “That is how he puts it. Good day to you, my lady.”  
“Goodbye Anakin.”

Nothing happened that night, or the next and Padmé began to wonder if the security measure was a little over-zealous after all. Fortuitously, Anakin was good company; despite her own misgivings, he had improved greatly in the intervening years. He was much more certain of himself, if sometimes a little too cocky, he was witty, if a little otherworldly. He still had the same irrepressible curiosity that she remembered and he liked to have fun. Obviously the Temple had not managed to shape him in the serious, conservative Jedi as much as they might have wished. For his part, Obi-wan insisted that Anakin remain with the Senator AT ALL TIMES. The wily Jedi had calculated that by following their instructions to the letter it would sufficiently annoy the independent and wilful senator that she would petition for them to be removed from the protection element of the assignment. That would then free Anakin to help him with the ongoing investigation. Gathering information was proving more troublesome than he had expected. As the Council had hoped, the assignment afforded the two Jedi an insight into the workings and concerns of the Senate, where Anakin spent most of his time with Padmé. It was the preserve of politicians and bureaucrats and isolating for anyone who did not completely understand the machinations of the state. It was not the most comfortable of places for the young Jedi and he found himself waiting for Padmé in the long, echoing halls that ran through the centre of the Senate an inordinate number of times, longing for the vast, unknown reaches of space.  
It was at one of these times that Anakin was waiting for Padmé, that a familiar figure approached him.  
“Anakin Skywalker.” It was the Chancellor no less, at the head of his retinue. Smiling warmly he approached the young Jedi. “I had heard you were back on Coruscant, I am surprised that we have not encountered each other earlier. How is your training progressing?”  
“Very well, your Excellency,” said Anakin respectfully. “Another year and Master Kenobi believes that I will be ready to take the trials to become a Knight.”  
The Chancellor clapped his hands, “Really? That is marvellous news. I have heard that you are a very promising young Jedi and seeing you now, looking so well, it brings joy to my heart. But tell me, my young friend, what brings you to the Senate?”  
“I have been assigned to Senator Amidala’s personal protection,” replied Anakin, “and I must follow her everywhere.”  
“I expect she keeps you busy,” smiled the Chancellor, his face kindly. “Do please excuse me, Anakin, but the Senate will have assembled by now. Come and visit me when you have a chance, I would like to know a little more about what has been happening to you.”  
“I will endeavour to try, your Grace.”  
“Then I look forward to talking with you more very soon.” The Chancellor moved on.  
It had been a while since Anakin had seen the Chancellor. He could not help but feel slightly surprised that despite all the trouble in the Senate, the continuing unrest in the Galaxy and the attacks perpetrated by the CLONE, Paplatine seemed so… well, so cheerful. He had not sensed any strain in him at all.  
But there were more pressing matters. Where was the Senator? He looked at his wristband impatiently.  
“Anakin!”  
Looking round, he saw Senator Amidala walking purposefully down the hallway towards him, as fast as her heavy, swinging skirts allowed her.  
“And where have you been my lady?” demanded Anakin, looking at her with concern, “I was beginning to worry.”  
“Forgive me Anakin,” she said breathlessly, “I met Senator Organa and we got talking.”  
The hallway had already emptied out. Their voices were small and insubstantial amidst the grandeur.  
“We better go in.”  
“I saw the Chancellor,” replied Anakin as they walked quickly down the corridor; “He seemed surprised to see me here…”  
“The Chancellor is already here?” shrieked Padmé in alarm, grabbing Anakin’s arm, “then we are late! Come on!”  
They rushed into the main assembly room, just as the guards were starting to close the doors; after a sweet smile and placatory words from Padmé, they were permitted to enter, but only just.  
“That was lucky,” breathed Padmé, leading him towards the pod reserved for Naboo, “after all the trouble I’ve had returning to Coruscant it would be intolerable to miss such an important session.”  
“Who says that politics isn’t exciting?” smirked Anakin, taking up his usual position behind her seat. It gave him a good view of the Senate and its numerous members, each ‘pod’ containing the representatives of each star system joined to the Republic. It was a noisy cacophony of many voices, languages and dialects, only broken when the Chancellor stood up in his pod positioned at the centre of the massive dome, looking tiny on his podium.  
Padmé looked at him. “Why? Have you heard otherwise?”  
“Never mind.”  
“It was Obi-wan I suspect,” said Padmé, guessing correctly, “you shouldn’t listen to him. Not all politicians are the grasping, power-hungry individuals he thinks we are.”  
“It’s alright, I don’t,” replied Anakin. It was not that he didn’t want to listen to Obi-wan, but most of the time he knew what he was going to tell him before he even opened his mouth.  
Hush descended over the assembled senators as the Chancellor began to speak and Anakin settled down to listen. He had never been inside the Senate before, and he was not overly sophisticated to find it beneath him to be amazed by what he saw. All the systems of the galaxy represented in one room; each star system represented by its pod and its senators. Even the fact that many of the pods were empty did not detract from the sheer numbers in the chamber. For a moment the thought crossed his mind that no wonder there were increasing outcries against the systems and bureaucracies it created. There were so many senators to accommodate, so many different customs, languages and belief systems to assimilate. But after a while of listening to the debates, the arguments flown back and forth, and the mind-numbing minutiae of detail that was seized on by opponents and defenders alike, Anakin began to realise that he was not as clued up on the events that were unfolding outside of Coruscant as he had believed. The Jedi Council had not thought to supply its padawans with the detail that was being discussed in the chamber.  
During a particularly dull exchange, he turned to Padmé, “I didn’t realise that there was a difference between the purpose of the CLONE and the Separatists, I had been led to believe that they were one and the same.”  
“It’s a common misconception,” agreed Padmé, glad that he was taking an interest. “But they are similar in that they wish to change how the Core territories are governed and both have a vested interest in overthrowing all of the reforms we have spent years putting into place,” she said looking at him meaningfully.  
“It seems we are powerless to stop them.” He wondered how the translators could keep up with the increasingly furious debates.  
“That is what the supporters of a war will have you believe,” said Padmé thinly, “but there are alternatives. The CLONE have not made it easy for us, I admit. They refuse all our requests for diplomacy. That is the drawback to dealing with terrorists.”  
“Some people say they are fighting for what they believe in,” said Anakin, adding quickly, “well, that is how I have heard it from sources outside of Coruscant.”  
“If they believe in causing fraction and discontent then yes, it is possible to agree with that perspective,” said Padmé angrily; she would never forgive the CLONE for the attack on her people. “The fear is that they will join with the Separatists.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you know why Count Dooku left the Jedi Order?”  
“The Council believes that he lost faith in the Republic. After Master Qui-Gon died he became increasingly disillusioned, claiming the Senate’s politics were corrupt, and he felt the Jedi had been betrayed by serving the politicians. He believed our reputation had been eroded and our importance forgotten.”  
“But the Jedi have been saying that for years,” she replied, “why has only Dooku taken this bold step?”  
Having never met Dooku except for briefly Anakin shrugged, “No one knows. Dooku refuses to the talk to the Council and has hidden himself away. Obi-wan wanted to try and find him, to talk some sense into him, but the Council refused. They think he’s too dangerous.”  
“He trained Qui-Gon didn’t he?” Padmé had taken some interest in the Jedi’s history since meeting Qui-Gon and Obi-wan all those years ago.  
“Yes, but they were very different, Qui-Gon would never have left the Order,” said Anakin, remembering the elder Jedi wistfully.  
“What are the Council going to do about Dooku?”  
“I don’t know. Master Windu failed in his attempt to find him and since then no other Jedi has been allowed to pursue the matter.” It was Anakin’s belief that Master Windu knew more than he was prepared to tell the Council, however he did not want to share everything with the curious Senator.  
“Do you think Dooku has any support amongst the Jedi?”  
Anakin knew what she was doing, “Senator Amidala, Count Dooku was – is - a powerful and charismatic Jedi but believe me, the Jedi are loyal to the Republic.”  
“But they have done little to stop him,” objected Padmé, “take a look around you Anakin, you can see how many senators are absent today; it should be a full assembly, this is a critical time for the Republic.”  
“Okay, okay, I’ll talk to the Council and see if they will send more Jedi along to debate the issues,” said Anakin sarcastically.  
“I know you wish to think well of your fellow Jedi, but his actions are ill-timed,” whispered Padmé, more mindful that she could be treading on dangerous ground, “it is only creating more conflict especially as the Separatists are considering uniting with the CLONE.”  
“There is no evidence for that,” replied Anakin quickly, “my lady you must be careful not to…”  
“Order! Order!” came the strident voice of Mas Amadda, as the intense debate erupted once more into unseeingly fighting and insults amongst the senators. “We command that you respect the customs of your fellow senators otherwise we will have to suspend the debate. Please present your objections in a manner fit to be heard within the Senate, not within the pleasure quarters of Coruscant.”  
The debate eventually swung round to the problem of Count Dooku and his Separatist movement. Paying more attention, Anakin was alarmed to hear that Padmé was right; there was a large amount of unrest in the Senate over the actions of his Jedi superiors.  
“They are turning a blind eye to the conduct of Count Dooku,” said a particularly vociferous Senator from Blaneau IV, “how can we be sure that the Council do not have a hand in his affairs?”  
There were angry calls and agreements echoing around the hall.  
“They have been increasingly isolated from the Senate, how do we know that we can trust the Jedi whilst one of them is advocating a new order that would see the replacement of the Republic?”  
“The thing that I do not understand,” said Anakin quietly to Padmé, “is that with all the threats against the Republic, why are the senators not pulling together with the Jedi to defeat them?”  
“You heard the Senator,” replied Padmé, “they assume the Jedi are unwilling to become involved.”  
“I see your concerns, my most esteemed colleague,” came the weary voice of the Chancellor, “and usually there would be none of the Jedi amongst us to defend their recent actions. But today, we do have a Jedi amongst our midst.”  
There was a murmuring of surprise rippling through the ranks of senators; this was most unprecedented.  
“Anakin Skywalker,” said the Chancellor, indicating the pod where the young man was sitting uncomfortably, trying to make himself invisible. “Maybe you could inform the more sceptical senators amongst us of the continuing allegiance of the Jedi?”  
“You don’t have to say anything,” said Padmé warily to Anakin, “he does not have the authority to…”  
“It’s alright,” said Anakin, feeling confident. Straightening his cloak about his shoulders and coming to the front of the pod, he faced the assembled senators. “Your grace, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, most esteemed Senators. I would be very happy to explain the position of the Jedi to you…”

“Congratulations Anakin,” said Obi-wan when he saw Anakin later that evening, unable to hide the sarcasm, “I hear from Senator Amidala that you have a new career ahead of you.”  
“I did what I could defend our honour Master,” replied Anakin, not ashamed for his actions. “There is much unrest in the Senate at the moment and we cannot afford for it to become directed at the Council.”  
“Very well Anakin, but do not make a habit of it,” advised Obi-wan, looking out the window at the traffic that streamed incessantly around the city skyline.  
“Why not?” Anakin objected to his reproach, “the Chancellor asked me.”  
“He had no right to ask you, Anakin. I am surprised at his lapse of protocol and you should be more careful.”  
“If the Jedi did not isolate themselves from the Senate we would not have to defend ourselves.” He still thought he had done the right thing.  
Obi-wan heaved a sigh; even he could not always deny the difficult position in which the Jedi found themselves, “Senator Amidala said you spoke very impressively.”  
“That is very kind of her.”  
“Speaking of the Senator, where is she? Has she retired?”  
“She has, Master,” he replied, taking a seat on the pale-coloured couch. It would be another night of waiting.  
“It’s a little early isn’t it?”  
“I think the discussions in the Senate today tired her out.”  
“Really?” Obi-wan raised his eyebrows.  
“Believe me Master if you had been there you would understand.”  
“That is why I keep away from there,” smiled Obi-wan, “Anyway, I thought I asked you to stand watch in the Senator’s room tonight, why are you out here?”  
“I was going to tell you about that...”  
“You let her overrule you?”  
“You know what she’s like,” protested Anakin, who had had enough confrontation for one day. His head ached. “I programmed her droid R2 to alert us of any unexpected movement in her room.”  
“Am I hearing you correctly? What good is a droid against an intruder?”  
“It was a compromise,” stated Anakin firmly, “besides Padmé is bored of waiting, she thinks if we create the right conditions then something will happen.”  
“Exactly what Captain Typho feared we would do.” He looked at his pupil suspiciously, “And you agreed with her?”  
“I couldn’t talk her out of it.”  
“Yes, she can be wilful,” frowned Obi-wan, looking with concern towards the smooth door that led to the senator’s quarters. “But she’s taking an awful risk and it looks like we’re helping her.”  
Anakin was confident; “I can sense everything that is going on in there, even now…”  
“I am sure you think you can but your senses are not that good,” remarked Obi-wan, slightly annoyed that Padmé and Anakin had been making plans without him. “And neither is your judgement. You trust these senators far too much. You must remember that your allegiance is to the Jedi Council, not to the Senate.”  
“There is no need to remind me Master, I know where my loyalties lie,” said Anakin irritably. He looked out over the glittering lights of the urban night time hoping that its tranquillity would calm him.  
“Did I tell you that I interviewed Senator Organa today,” said Obi-wan conversationally.  
Anakin took more interest. “Did he provide any more information about the assassination attempts?”  
“A little,” sighed Obi-wan, perching on the couch, “apparently several senators have been killed in a similar way to that attempted on Senator Amidala. He thinks there may be a pattern.”  
“And do you?”  
“Until I can access the landing platform and obtain some actual evidence I cannot assume anything. At the moment the evidence points to a shadowy organisation known only as the Nar Duulas but they are better known for their spice smuggling so really I am none the wiser.”  
“It would seem unlikely.” Anakin could no longer contain his need to yawn.  
“Sorry am I boring you?” Obi-wan frowned at him.  
“No, of course not,” said Anakin. Barely had he spoken before he was ambushed by another huge yawn.  
“I think you belong in bed,” commented Obi-wan dryly, “you’re about as much use to me as a mynock co-pilot!”  
“I’m fine Master,” insisted Anakin, trying to pull himself together.  
“I wonder if it is sensible for you to spend so much time with the Senator. It seems her tiredness is catching.” Obi-wan shook his head, “Anakin, I’m serious. You are relieved from your duties. Go to bed.”  
“Alright, alright.” Picking up his cloak from the couch, Anakin made his way to the door where he turned round. “If you need me…”  
“Don’t worry about me, contrary to your opinion I’ll be fine on my own.”  
“But…”  
“Just go, Anakin,” said Obi-wan, shaking his head, “now before I change my mind.”  
“Goodnight Master.”  
“Goodnight Anakin.” Obi-wan breathed a deep sigh as the door slid shut behind his pupil. At times the manic energy that Anakin stored inside him threatened to destabilise his own centre of calm, the way the Force hummed and crackled about him could not help but affect those sensitive to it. And he needed to focus; it would be a long night.

“How are your investigations proceeding, Master Kenobi?”  
Obi-wan and Captain Typho were waiting in the main audience chamber of Padmé’s spacious apartments to escort her to the Senate, chatting to alleviate the tedium. Anakin sat on the couch nearby, idly reading a report on the recent movements of the CLONE.  
“To tell the truth, I am not getting very far.” Obi-wan scratched his beard thoughtfully, “It seems that all evidence pertaining to the assassination attempts mysteriously disappears when I try to obtain it.” So far he had no leads and almost no evidence, the sequence of events after the explosion on the landing platform seemed too convenient, beset by a series of minor, but significant, incompetencies and unlikely accidents. For one, the droids had been much too thorough in their clean up attempts and by the time he managed to get through Republic red tape to access the damaged cruiser, all traces of the explosion had been removed. Even more alarmingly, the security tapes that would have shown activities on the landing platform before, during and after the explosion had gone missing. Security had been sufficiently embarrassed but Obi-wan surmised that this was more than error or coincidence. Someone obviously wanted Padmé’s disaster erased quickly from the public memory. Obi-wan remained optimistic however. “Something will turn up.”  
“Let’s hope so,” agreed Typho. Time was advancing steadily and still no sign of the Senator. “Where is she?” he asked, tapping his wristband.  
“She’s taking her time,” muttered Anakin, who felt he would never become accustomed to the inordinate amounts of time he spent waiting for the Senator.  
The door that led to the Senator’s private chambers remained obstinately closed.  
Conspiratorially Typho said to Obi-wan, “It never ceases to amaze me how long that young lady takes to prepare for the Senate.”  
“I imagine she has to practice her diction a few times,” began Obi-wan but seeing the smile on Typho’s face he realised what he meant. “Oh, her appearance you mean.”  
“What else?”  
Then the door did open and Padmé finally came out, clad in a dark blue dress, lace at her throat, and sporting a high velvet collar that served to highlight the creaminess of her complexion. Despite the wait, she looked effortlessly glamorous, even for the standards of a Senator.  
“Anakin!” hissed Obi-wan, seeing the young man was still sitting down, a terrible breach of protocol. And he had his feet up on the coffee table. He would have to drum out of him such slovenly habits.  
“What? Oh, sorry.” Putting down the holopad, Anakin leapt to his feet.  
As the Senator approached them, Obi-wan noticed Anakin sneaking a glance at her and shook his head. Really, he was so unsubtle. He was surprised that no one else had noticed but then their concern was for the Senator, not his charge.  
“Hello Master Obi-wan,” said Padmé, gracing both Jedi with a radiant smile. “I did not expect to see you today.”  
“My lady,” Obi-wan bowed, “Captain Typho and I thought it better if both Anakin and I accompanied you to the Senate today.” It was the all-important vote on increasing the army and taking action against the CLONE and security had been necessarily tightened.  
“It will be a pleasure. Shall we go?”  
They followed her out to the waiting transport, the rest of her entourage filing in behind them.

Most of the morning Anakin had felt jittery and as they got into the transport he felt it again, the perception that something was going to happen.  
“Are you alright Anakin?” Obi-wan sensed his anxiety.  
“Yes, Master,” began Anakin, unsure how to articulate his concerns, “well no. Actually, I mean I’m alright Master but I feel something is wrong.”  
“Yes, it is good to be mindful of your feelings Anakin but do not let them distract you. I agree however that we must be on our guard. More so than usual.”  
If passions were running high in the Senate, equally passions were running high amongst the citizens of the Republic over the plans for a Grand Republic Army. Demonstrations in favour and against the army had blighted the Senate for weeks, making it difficult for the Senators to go about their business without being heckled or mobbed. Security was tight but without restricting the citizen’s liberties in some manner – which would have been even more inconceivable – they could not prevent the huge crowds from forming around the entrance to the Senate.  
The day of the vote had attracted a larger crowd than usual, chanting popular slogans and waving homemade banners. The heavily armoured Republic Guards watched silently, intervening when protestors became a little too over-excited. But generally the atmosphere was good-natured and so far there had been no violence or even name-calling amongst the assembled protestors.  
The Senator’s speeder flew down towards the landing platform of the gargantuan Senate building, coming to a rest some distance away from the Senate entrance.  
Padmé’s eyes widened as she saw the massive crowds gathered in the vicinity. It cheered her. “I did not know the creation of the army would attract so much opposition. That will surely help us in our cause.”  
“We will have to walk to the Senate,” said Panaka, putting away his comlink. “They cannot bring a transport because of all the crowds.”  
“No matter,” replied Padmé brightly, “it is a lovely day for a walk.”  
The sun shone in the hazy sky, clouds skittering across now and then. A light breeze stirred the Jedi’s cloaks as they started to walk towards the Senate. Already they could hear the murmurs and shouts of the protestors as the cherished opponent of the Act, their heroine Senator Amidala, headed towards them. As they walked past the crowds, Obi-wan was beginning to wonder if Anakin was right. He felt a nagging uneasiness at the back of his mind.  
The crowd was behind them now, the Senator starting up the steps that led to the huge entrance doors beneath the portico. Anakin and Obi-wan were either side of her, Captain Typho bringing up the rear.  
Even though he thought hard about it later, Anakin never knew what prompted him to turn around. Perhaps it had been the slightest movement in the crowd… the raising of a hand… Without stopping to think, he launched himself at Padmé.  
“What… on… Coruscant… are… you… doing?” she cried as they rolled giddily down the steps and came to a halt at the bottom, her skirts and hair all tangled together with the young Jedi. “Ow!” she added dramatically as he landed heavily on top of her.  
“Forgive me, my lady.” Picking himself up quickly, Anakin was mortified. He looked about in confusion, “I thought I saw…” But there was nothing to see.  
“Help me up then,” said Padmé irritably, holding out her hand.  
He took her hand. He couldn’t believe that he had been so stupid.  
“Really Anakin sometimes I think…” began Padmé, as he helped her up.  
The rest of security gathered round, looking at Anakin as if he were crazy. Obi-wan looked ready to throttle him.  
“… these Jedi instincts of yours are sometimes…”  
Something came flying out of the crowd and landed with a soft clunk on the Senate steps.  
“…mistaken.”  
The detonator softly bleeped.  
“Run!” yelled Typho, “it’s gonna blow!”  
Screaming and confusion filled the air as the crowds rushed backwards, trying to get away from the danger. Many were crushed as panic gripped the formerly passive crowd, the guards incapable of maintaining order.  
Still clutching each other’s hands, Anakin and Padmé raced away from the steps, back towards the landing platform. But they had not gone far when the detonator exploded, blasting away a good chunk of the ancient Senate’s foundations.  
Knocked to the ground by the force of the blast, Anakin crawled over to where the Senator lay, shielding her with his body as fragments of stone rained down upon them. “Are you alright my lady?”  
“Yes, I think so.” There was a small cut above her left eye, scrapes and bruises everywhere else but nothing serious.  
Once the immediate danger was over, Anakin climbed to his feet. There was no sign of Obi-wan.  
“I am sorry Anakin,” said Padmé as he helped her up, rearranging her dishevelled dress. “I shouldn’t have…”  
Before she finished, Captain Typho raced over. “Thank goodness you are safe my lady!” he gasped.  
“Have you seen Obi-wan?” asked Anakin, rubbing his ribs where they had started to hurt.  
“I think he went into the crowd,” wheezed Typho, “after whoever…”  
“Will you be safe here, my lady?” asked a fidgety Anakin, feeling he should go and help his Master.  
“I will be fine,” agreed Padmé readily. “Captain Panaka will protect me.”  
“Typho, my lady.” The Captain looked at her gently.  
“Oh my,” said Padmé, blushing copiously as she realised her mistake. “Yes, Captain Typho is here. You go after Obi-wan.”  
“Thank you, my lady.” Relieved, Anakin raced off to find his Master, Padmé watching him for a moment.  
“We better get you inside my lady,” said Typho, concerned for the practical details as always.  
As they headed towards the remains of the steps, Padmé could not help noticing the chaos within the crowd, could hear crying and screaming. “We must help them,” she said decisively.  
“My lady, I insist…”  
“Captain, please. We will do what we can until more help arrives.”  
Before he could protest, she headed towards the melee and started to roll up her sleeves.

“What is that racket?” Looking up into the sky, Camoh Dulak saw a number of Republic security vehicles, the familiar orange and brown logo, heading to the east, their sirens blaring. Speeders and other transports sharing the skies moved obediently out of their way as they streaked past.  
“Something must have happened at the Senate,” pointed out his wife Oonagh, watching as they headed in the direction of the huge domed building, just glimpsed in the distance. “Wasn’t it that vote today?”  
“Yeah, the military vote.” Camoh never used to pay that much attention to the news; it was always full of some disaster or conflict happening on far-off systems. But with the growing need for an army he had a fear that the war was approaching. “Mŏr reckoned there would be trouble. Been protests around it for months.”  
They continued their walk, Oonagh tucking her lekku beneath her shawl more securely, “Do you think we can eat out tonight? I don’t feel like cooking.”  
“That’s a good idea, maybe we could try that new place?”  
“Moser’s?”  
“Yeah that’s the…”  
Before he could finish, a blur of brown and cream came flying round the corner and promptly smacked into his wife, sending both she and him flying to the sidewalk.  
“I am so sorry.” Apologising profusely, Obi-wan helped Oonagh to her feet whilst her husband yelled obscenities at his carelessness.  
“What the blazes do you think you are doing?” yelled Camoh, not recognising that he was a Jedi just a clumsy passer-by, “you can’t go running around, knocking into us like that!”  
“Look, I’m really sorry but I have to…”  
“I don’t care what you have to do!” He was apoplectic, grabbing hold of Obi-wan’s tunic, “my wife is…”  
“Excuse me!”  
Camoh looked up. Standing to the side of them was a younger man, tall and fair-haired, dressed in similar robes to the human in his grasp. He had appeared from nowhere. There was something so authoritative about his manner that Camoh immediately felt the desire to relax his grip on the troublemaker’s tunic.  
“I think you want to let go of this man,” continued the young man calmly, waving his hand palm upwards towards him, a galactic symbol of humility, “He’s not worth the trouble.”  
Instantly letting go of Obi-wan, Camoh backed away, “No, he’s not worth the trouble.”  
“Thank you,” said the young man pleasantly, “I hope we have not interrupted your walk too much. Good day.”  
“Have a good day yourself,” Taking his wife’s hand, Camoh walked away with a second look at the two Jedi, feeling slightly confused.  
As Obi-wan saved his tunic from disarray, Anakin looked at him. “Which way?”  
“That way.” Obi-wan pointed to the alleyway.  
“Let’s go then!” Anakin set off down the road.  
“I’m glad you made it,” panted Obi-wan as he raced along behind his pupil. Even with his keen reflexes he had found it difficult to track the individual who had lobbed the detonator towards the Senator. Aside from the complications of tracking an organic lifeform, the continual noise and confusion of the city bombarded his senses, making it impossible to concentrate. “I hope you didn’t leave the Senator unprotected.”  
“Of course not,” replied Anakin, his eyes roving the distance for anything extraordinary, “I thought you could do with some help. And it seemed I was correct.”  
“Took you long enough to get here.”  
“It would have taken me longer if you hadn’t been so slow,” shot back Anakin, as they rounded the corner.  
“There he is!” Obi-wan espied their adversary leaning against the wall of a lurid store.  
Hearing the shout, their quarry turned, saw them, and was soon disappearing off again into the labyrinth of passageways that characterised the area. One of the older parts of Coruscant, it was a network of close avenues, in amongst them grimy housing and their even grubbier inhabitants, refugees from the lower levels of Coruscant - until the authorities moved them on.  
“It’s not a he,” said Anakin as they ran past a group of children happily playing the dirt, dodging round them.  
“Anakin shut up,” said Obi-wan almost tripping over a stray animal. “How do you know that?”  
“I can feel it,” he explained, his keen eyes just catching sight of the bounty hunter vanishing behind a line of washing strung out across the street, “she’s frightened.”  
She was also getting more exhausted and they were catching up with her. However, even Anakin was surprised when they rounded another corner and were suddenly face to face with two rounds of laser screaming towards them.  
“Get down!” Obi-wan dived to the ground, pulling his pupil with him, the bolts passing over their heads and slamming into the wall behind them.  
“So they want to play dirty do they?” Anakin did not appreciate being thrown into the dirt and made to grab his lightsaber.  
“That doesn’t mean we have to,” exclaimed Obi-wan, stopping his hand. “We can’t endanger any citizens. We need a plan.”  
“I never got as far as a plan,” grumbled Anakin, getting to his feet. There was no sign of the bounty hunter, not to visible sight anyhow. Concentrating, Anakin allowed his thoughts to drift for a moment, searching... “Come on,” he said decisively.  
“Where are we going?” asked Obi-wan as Anakin doubled back and took them down another alleyway, “she didn’t go this way.”  
“I know,” said Anakin, as though his actions were obvious. “We are going to cut her off.”  
“I’m certain this leads to a dead end.” Obi-wan wished he would put more thought into things. “Did I ever tell you I don’t approve of your methods?”  
“All the time,” replied Anakin with the air of one who had given up long ago trying to explain his rationale, “but with respect Master, I don’t see you with any better ideas.” He bounded out the way before a door opened and a hefty-looking Neimoidian stepped out, gasping with surprise as the two Jedi streaked past him.  
“But we’re going in the wrong direction!” Obi-wan was still sceptical.  
“Trust me.”  
They continued along the increasingly sordid street, walled on either side by crumbling buildings of dubious origin, until Anakin came to halt beneath a fizzing sign, its blinking light illuminating only a boarded up window and scattered piles of debris.  
“Now what?” Obi-wan wondered why they had stopped.  
“We wait.”  
“I hope this is part of your plan?” When Anakin remained silent, Obi-wan waited for a little while longer. But there was no sign of the bounty hunter, or any living being for that matter. Except for a small, thin and bedraggled looking cat that took a liking to Obi-wan’s boot until he pushed it away impatiently. “Well I hate to say it but looks like you’ve lost them.” And in the worst part of the city!  
“Patience, Master,” said Anakin calmly. He was watching the street, his eyes still roving restlessly.  
But Obi-wan was getting fed up. “Let’s go back,” he suggested, “goodness knows what has happened to the Senator in our absence.”  
Losing his concentration, Anakin looked at him in surprise. “But Master I know what I’m doing…”  
“Anakin I see no profit in continuing this chase. What if this is just a decoy?” he continued, a fresh concern springing to mind, “We have left the Senator completely open to attack.”  
“But we’re so close,” insisted Anakin. By his estimation it wouldn’t be long.  
Obi-wan no longer cared about catching the bounty hunter. He could not abide Anakin’s disobedience. “We’re going back.”  
Anakin was about to protest when the bounty hunter stumbled around the corner and almost collided with him.  
They stared at each other for a moment, the young padawan and the young bounty hunter. There couldn’t be a great difference in their age.  
Recovering first, the bounty hunter raised her blaster, fired a couple of shots at the two Jedi and immediately ran back the way she had come.  
“If you want to go back,” shouted Anakin, chasing after the fleeing girl without a second thought, “be my guest!”  
“Anakin!” An astonished Obi-wan could only watch as the young Jedi disappeared around the corner.  
Why do I even bother? He seems determined not to listen to me, thought Obi-wan crossly.  
I wonder where he got that attitude? said another, calmer voice in his ear.  
Releasing his irritation, Obi-wan set off in pursuit of his pupil.

The chase had left the relative safety of the alleyways and onto the busier main roads, Anakin almost losing the bounty hunter amongst the crowds of citizens. It was all he could do to keep her in sight, whilst also taking care not to draw too much attention to himself.  
Frig!  
A blaster shot slammed into an advertising panel behind him. Screams pierced the air.  
Anakin drew his lightsaber. Despite Obi-wan’s concerns he knew that he couldn’t allow innocent citizens to get hurt.  
“Out of the way!”  
The citizens around him didn’t need telling twice and they scrambled out of his way until soon he was within sight of the young bounty hunter again.  
Up ahead, the bounty hunter was close to total exhaustion. She had never expected the chase to go on so long, or the Jedi to be so persistent. Glancing round, she saw he was gaining on her again the crowds scattering as he charged through them. Aiming her blaster at his head she was about to pull the trigger when the angry drone of a horn startled her, forcing her to dive out of the way before she was run down by a speeder.  
Seeing her mistake, Anakin had almost reached her when he stumbled, tripped over his own feet and fell heavily to the ground, rolling to absorb the impact of his fall. When he came to a stop, he was breathing heavily, his lungs on fire surrounded by a very curious group of citizens.  
“Are you alright?”  
“Fine.” Anakin sat up painfully; he would have more than a few bruises. Assessing the situation quickly, he saw that the bounty hunter was on her feet again and was halfway across the road. Jumping up, he headed after her through the traffic, dodging speeders, ignoring the obscenities screamed by their terrified drivers.  
As he followed her through the thronged streets, he could tell that she was slowing down. But as the gap narrowed between them again, the bounty hunter turned sharply into what looked like a nightclub doorway, under a spluttering neon sign.  
“Watch it!”  
Anakin nearly stumbled into a group of humanoids that glared at him before moving on. But then he saw a more familiar figure approaching from the same direction, “Master!”  
“Where’s our quarry?” asked Obi-wan as he hurried towards him. “Have you lost her again?”  
“No Master, she’s gone in there.” Anakin pointed to the nightclub entrance. Near collapse, he coughed violently, spitting blood-tinged mucus onto the pavement.  
“You need a rest,” said Obi-wan, looking at his friend in concern.  
“I’m alright.” Anakin coughed again.  
“Well calm down and concentrate then,” advised Obi-wan, “it won’t be easy to find anyone in there.”  
They went into the doorway beneath a broken and sparking sign, down a long, dim corridor lit by a single strip. Shadows crept along the walls, following the Jedi as they marched along towards the door at the other end.  
It took them into the club proper. They were standing on a balcony, metal stairs leading downwards to a heaving mass of Coruscant’s darker elements. Anakin’s eyes were agog; he didn’t know such places existed, let alone be open in the middle of the day.  
“Let’s make this quick shall we?” muttered Obi-wan, feeling uncomfortable and seeing more than a few curious stares in their direction.  
Surveying the crowd below, Anakin noticed a familiar figure in the crowd. “There she is,” pointing her out to Obi-wan.  
They sprinted down the stairs, Anakin heading towards the fleeting vision he had.  
Pushing his way through the crowd, who were not pleased at his interruption to their pleasures, Anakin could see the woman from afar. She was heading deeper and deeper into the club. Her desperation filled his senses, choked his mind. But he knew she had not spotted them. He didn’t know if Obi-wan was behind him, he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting hold of their only clue to the mystery.  
Then he felt a hand on his arm.  
Startled, Anakin swung round to confront his assailant, his hand on his lightsaber…  
“That won’t be necessary,” commented Obi-wan, raising his eyebrow. “Do you know where she’s gone?”  
“Towards the back,” said Anakin, straining to hear his own voice over the heavy, grinding music. “I think she’s trying to get out of here!”  
By the time they reached the back of the room, pushing roughly through all the clinging, heaving bodies, there was no sign of her. But there was another door.  
Diving through it, the Jedi found yet another long, gloomy corridor, filled with the detritus of lowlifes. Through yet another door and they were outside again, this time in a cramped back alley.  
Crouched over in the alley was the bounty hunter. She was holding a black, spherical shape, typing something into its controls. Hearing footsteps she glanced up. Seeing the two Jedi, their lightsabers drawn, she dropped whatever she was holding in fear and backed away, her face registering shock, then anger.  
“Stay where you are!” Obi-wan guessed that she was only 19, 20 maybe. Her face looked very fragile in the waning light.  
“What do you want with me?” Her voice was timid; shy even.  
Anakin took a step forward. “Who are you trying to kill? Who sent you?”  
“Let’s not beat around the bush,” murmured Obi-wan under his breath.  
“Why should I tell you?” She was trying to reach her blaster without being obvious, stealthily sliding her hand towards her belt…  
“Don’t try anything,” cautioned Anakin, keeping his eyes fixed on hers.  
Panicking, the girl brought her blaster up too quickly, firing a couple of shots at Obi-wan who easily moved in time to avoid them. Running further into the alley, she bought up her blaster to aim again but screamed in terror as her hand was sliced cleanly off, landing on the floor with a thud.  
Sinking to the floor, she clutched her hand to her chest, crying and sobbing angrily. “You monster!”  
Anakin caught his lightsaber deftly, and, running towards where the girl was crouching on the dirty floor of the alley, he grabbed both her arms before she could run away again.  
“Let go of me you creep!” She squirmed in his grasp, spitting blood. “Where do you get off hurting girls?”  
“If you calm down, this would be easier for both of us,” said Anakin, looking up as Obi-wan joined them. He was confused; she had attempted an assassination. What was she doing censuring him for his actions?  
“Why should I make it easy for you?” she growled, blood dribbling down her chin, staining the soft, pale flesh. “You’ve maimed me, you bastard!”  
“I told you not to try anything.”  
“What’s your name?” asked Obi-wan, guessing she was trying to manipulate them into letting her go.  
She spat at him for a reply, watching with satisfaction as the red-tinged saliva slid down the Jedi’s cheek.  
“Looks like we’ve found a lovely young lady here,” said Obi-wan mockingly, wiping it away. “You might as well tell us what you know, I think you’ll find the Republic guards will be not be so kind when we hand you over to them.”  
To their surprise, the girl started to cry; “Okay, okay I’ll talk. Just please let me go!”  
Obi-wan looked at Anakin warily – they knew this could be another trick to win sympathy. “Do you know who you were trying to kill?”  
A pause. “Senator Amidala.”  
“Why is she a target?”  
“I don’t ask questions like that,” replied the girl grumpily, shifting nervously under the burning gaze of both Jedi, “I just do my job.”  
“Well, you didn’t do very well this time, did you?” commented Obi-wan.  
“Nobody told me there would be Jedi involved,” complained the girl, coughing, “What’s so special about this Senator anyway?”  
“Tell us who hired you,” said Anakin with quiet authority.  
With some defiance remaining, the girl glared at him, “She’s gonna die sooner or later.”  
“That’s why we need to know,” said Obi-wan, sensing his pupil was not as calm as he should be.  
“C’mon, tell us,” said Anakin. As she remained silent, he shook her roughly, “Tell us!”  
“Okay, I’ll tell you,” cried the girl, by now too afraid to keep up her pretence, “it was a Fett. They told me to meet this man… I never saw his face.”  
“Did he give you the assignment?” demanded Anakin.  
“Yes,” she regarded him with terror.  
“Did you get his name?” pressed Obi-wan, feeling they were getting somewhere at last.  
“Syfo…” but the words died in her throat abruptly as, from nowhere, two laser blasts slammed into the girl’s back.  
Obi-wan leapt up lightsaber at the ready, looking for the assailant - it was the droid she had been programming only moments before! Skilfully he deflected the laser fire back towards the droid; as the bolts hit the droid on the rebound it exploded in a blaze of sparks and circuitry. Pieces of droid floated to the ground like blossom.  
“Anakin?”  
The younger Jedi was holding the girl as her life ebbed away, his ear close to her lips as she mouthed the information they desperately needed. But soon her dying gasps of breath grew fainter and fainter. After a moment, Anakin reached out and smoothed the lids over her blue, empty eyes. “She’s gone.”  
Obi-wan sat down heavily beside Anakin and exhaled loudly. “How did that happen?”  
Anakin shook his head. “I don’t know, Master. I gravely doubt that she would have programmed that droid herself. Do you think somebody else could have controlled it?”  
“Remotely? I don’t think so. Unfortunately it’s a little too late to find out.” He looked at the girl again. “Did you hear what she said?”  
“Sounded like Syfa Deas or Dias, I think.”  
“Syfo Dyas,” breathed Obi-wan, looking at his pupil in astonishment.  
“The Jedi master?” Anakin was equally incredulous, “how could he order Senator Amidala’s assassination?”  
“I have no idea,” admitted Obi-wan wearily, “he’s dead!”  
“I think we should be careful about this. Such a revelation could be explosive given the current climate in the Senate.”  
“I agree. I think we should not tell the Senator about this.” Obi-wan was looking at the girl’s body, wondering if it could give them any more clues.  
“We’ve seen this armour before,” muttered Anakin as Obi-wan examined an insignia on her sleeve.  
“Mandalorian,” remarked the Jedi grimly. “She wasn’t lying about Fett.”  
Anakin fell silent, holding the girl’s stiffening body in his arms. Despite what she had done, her death seemed a terrible waste of life.  
“I wonder…?” murmured Obi-wan thoughtfully. Deftly he ripped the insignia from the limp sleeve.

On their return to the Senator’s apartment, Anakin was feeling a previously unknown sense of shame. He had never been called a monster before and he was beginning to question whether his actions had been entirely honourable. Even though she was obviously a bounty hunter and had been trying to attack them, did it really warrant the violence that he had inflicted upon her? He wasn’t really sure.  
“Well done, Anakin,” said Obi-wan as they walked back to the Senator’s apartment. “You demonstrated quick thinking today.”  
“And we got some new information,” said Anakin, too exhausted to talk much.  
“Yes, it’s not exactly what we expected. I think we must keep it to ourselves for the moment.”  
“Lie you mean,” grinned the younger Jedi, scratching his neck.  
“If you have to describe it thus, yes Anakin. I wonder though if we can really trust the word of a bounty hunter though,” mused Obi-wan.  
“Once she stopped trying to manipulate us, I sensed she was being truthful. She was scared.”  
“Indeed.” Obi-wan smiled broadly. “Let’s go and break the news to the Senator.”  
“She won’t be happy,” replied Anakin as they took the lift to floor 1134.  
Obi-wan looked at him with interest, “Since you are getting to know the Senator so well, maybe one day you might divulge to me what does make her happy.”  
“Long tedious meetings in the Senate, I believe, is the only thing she shows any excitement about,” grinned Anakin, “tell her that she’s got one of those and you will see her face light up immediately.”

Feeling aggrieved after the events of the morning, Padmé was waiting for them when they exited the elevator. After she informed them about the suspension of the vote due to the circumstances, she wanted to know everything about the chase.  
When they told her it was a bounty hunter, her eyes widened in alarm. “Did they say who hired them?”  
“No, they didn’t I’m afraid,” explained Obi-wan, “she was killed by a droid before she could impart that information to us.”  
“Most inconvenient.”  
“It was detrimental for us too, believe me my lady.”  
Padmé sighed. “We’ll never get to the bottom of this.”  
“We have some new information,” said Obi-wan, “but more importantly, the bounty hunter implied that there would be more attacks made on your life. There have been two already, my lady.”  
“What are you suggesting Master Kenobi?” asked Padmé apprehensively.  
“I know this will not be to your liking but I am going to suggest to the Council that you leave Coruscant.”  
Padmé was shocked. In her mind there was no question of her leaving. With all the conflict in the Senate loyal senators were in short supply and they were due to vote on the creation of the Republic army very soon. And who would replace her? “Master Kenobi I must protest…”  
But he interrupted her sternly, “Whilst you remain here you remain in danger. Anakin and I would make better use of our time looking for the culprits which at present we are unable to do because we must spend our time protecting you, my lady.”  
Anakin opened his mouth to voice his protestations but a sideways glance from his Master clamped it shut again.  
“You understand my concerns, my lady?” continued the older Jedi, studying her closely.  
“We will discuss this in the morning, Master Kenobi,” Padmé conceded, suddenly feeling very tired, “I suggest that Captain Typho can be in charge of security the rest of today. I wouldn’t want you to waste any more of your precious time in protecting me.”  
“That is very gracious of you, my lady.” Obi-wan ignored her sarcasm. “Anakin, are you coming?”  
“In a moment.” But it was Padmé that spoke.  
Uncertain about her motives, Obi-wan frowned, “Don’t keep him too long, Senator Amidala, Anakin needs his rest. Good day, my lady.” Don’t let her keep you too long.  
“Good day.” As Obi-wan departed, Padmé turned to Anakin, who was looking slightly puzzled as to why she wanted to speak to him.  
“What is it, my lady?”  
“It’s nothing sinister,” she said more light-heartedly, seeing his expression. “I wanted to thank you.” Coming closer to him, she added, “For saving my life.” Then, leaning forward, she deposited a light kiss to his cheek.  
“Then you should be thanking Master Kenobi as well. It is part of our mandate, why we are here, my lady.” Maybe it was because he was tired, maybe it was her kiss… maybe it was the fact that they were alone but he felt tingles all along his nerves.  
Smiling, she left him and went over to the window. “Master Kenobi is far more stern than he used to be.”  
“It’s not my place to say, my lady,” he replied diplomatically.  
“But you notice it too,” she continued, glancing at him. “I wonder if he will change his mind?”  
He realised what she was trying to do. So much for her affection! “I doubt it my lady, once Master Kenobi has his mind set on a course of action it is hard to dissuade him.”  
Watching the traffic outside, her knitted brows the only outward display of her annoyance, Padmé replied, “I should have known. You Jedi are renowned for your stubbornness.”  
Smiling inwardly, Anakin shook his head, “I believe your dispute is with Master Kenobi rather than me, my lady. So I will pass onto him your reservations regarding this matter.”  
At that, the young Senator realised how immaturely she was acting. Coming closer to Anakin she smiled apologetically, “Forgive me, it was not my place to criticise Master Kenobi. I am certain that he is convinced that he his acting in my best interests. But,” she added more firmly, “please can you remind him that the vote for the Military Creation Act is looming. I am sure that he would not wish my efforts to go to waste.”  
“I will remind him, my lady.” It was all he could do. “I must leave now, Master Kenobi will be waiting.”  
“Goodbye Anakin.” Padmé watched him leave with mixed feelings. She had hoped that she might have some leverage over him concerning his obvious feelings for her but it seemed the devotion to the Jedi Order ran even deeper… as it should do, she hastily reminded herself. What was she thinking? Distracted, and not comfortable with her own feelings, Padmé went in search of some absorbing diversion.


	4. The mystery deepens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concerned for her safety, Chancellor Palpatine suggests that Padme leave Coruscant until the mystery of the assassination attempts has been uncovered by the Jedi. Obi-wan is concerned when the Jedi Council agree that Anakin can accompany Padme to an undisclosed location alone, whilst Obi-wan continues his enquiries on Coruscant. Obi-wan is not sure that Anakin is ready for the responsibility.

When Obi-wan finished relating to the Jedi Council their finding of the bounty hunter, the girl’s reference to the Fett clan and Syfo Dyas ordering the assassination of the Senator, there was a collective gasp from the Jedi present.  
“How can this be?” asked Hedi Junnan, the crystals in her hair chiming softly, “Master Syfo Dyas would never order an assassination. He was a pacifist, not a warrior in the mould of Count Dooku. I cannot imagine he had a grudge against the Senate for any particular reason.”  
“And it is near impossible,” Shaak Ti shook her head, “he has been dead for over fifteen years.”  
“Or so we believed,” said Mace Windu, carefully considering the evidence put before them. “The only knowledge we have is that he was lost during a mission to investigate the Sith Temple at Korriban.”  
“His death was assumed because we could no longer feel his presence in the Force,” added Ki ali Mundi, “Strange this is.”  
His gaze fixed on Ob-wan, Master Windu said, “Investigate this revelation we must. With Count Dooku’s defection, we already have enough to deal with.”  
“Yes Master,” bowed Obi-wan, “I assume that we are to keep this information from the ears of the Senate.”  
“Certainly,” said Mace Windu, leaning his chin against his hand. “From what Anakin tells us,” he nodded at the young man who was waiting patiently behind Obi-wan, “the Senate will not be amenable to hearing about more conspiracies involving Jedi, whether proved or unproved. Do what you can Obi-wan to track down who hired this bounty hunter and why they are assuming the name of Syfo Dyas.”  
“We have not yet discovered the identity of the Sith and those who follow them,” continued Plo Keen, “It may be that Master Syfo Dyas was turned on Korriban. We cannot rule that out.”  
“With respect Master Keen,” interjected Hedi Junnan, “it has been many thousands of years since a Jedi has been turned by the Sith.”  
“But we must not be complacent,” said Mace Windu firmly, thinking of the fierce Sith that Obi-wan and Anakin had recently encountered and whose lightsaber was being examined for any clues it might yield. “What of Senator Amidala, Obi-wan?” He settled further back into his seat. “Have you uncovered why she is the focus of these attacks?”  
“No, Master Windu. I can find no evidence of any clear motive. I believed it was connected to her opposition of the war. But no other senator targeted is as open about their opposition as Senator Amidala and the concerted attempts to end her life suggest to me a more obscure reason. One not open to immediate scrutiny.”  
“Then you need more time?”  
“Yes. We have new leads, not least the questioning of the Fetts.”  
“We have obtained nothing from Th’an Fett,” said a dismayed Ki ali mundi, “he wears his silence as a badge of honour.”   
It was as Obi-wan suspected. “To the Fetts he is expendable. Still the Senator remains in danger and I propose that she should go into hiding until we can get to the bottom of this mystery. It is not safe for her to remain on Coruscant.”  
The Council elders conferred for a moment, Obi-wan and Anakin waiting patiently for their verdict. Neither Jedi spoke during that time, their tension hidden beneath two implacable expressions.  
“We have decided,” said Ki ali mundi eventually. “Obi-wan, you will continue your investigations into the assassination.”  
“And Anakin,” added Mace Windu, “you will accompany Senator Amidala into hiding. An obscure location we will choose, one where she will not be discovered readily. Yet, we feel she will still need our protection.”  
Obi-wan was uncertain whether to register his disbelief at their decision or not. How could they justify sending Anakin alone on such a dangerous mission? Yet he could not betray his concerns at that moment, not in front of Anakin, “We trust in the wisdom of your judgement, Masters.”  
Anakin was more concerned for Padmé’s objections so barely registered Obi-wan’s misgivings. “Master Windu, I still feel that Senator Amidala may seek to overrule the Council’s decision.”  
Obi-wan nodded, “Anakin is correct. How might we counter any opposition that she may have?”  
“The authority of the Jedi Council should be enough to silence her objections but I share your concerns.” Leaning back into his seat, Mace Windu thought for a moment. “Go then, Anakin, to the Senate and speak to Chancellor Palpatine. Alert him to the danger that Senator Amidala faces and ask him to issue an executive order for us. Surely the Senator will not think to overrule the Chancellor.”  
“Thank you, Master Windu.” Satisfied with his response, Anakin bowed.  
“It is decided then,” said Mace Windu formally, looking around at the circle of Jedi, “Obi-wan is to investigate the matter further and Anakin is to go with Senator Amidala into hiding. May the Force be with you both.”

“So you are to go on your first mission alone?” remarked Obi-wan, as they strolled along the Hall of Echoes, “I imagine you are pleased.”  
“Yes, Master,” said Anakin, feeling fortunate to have been given some responsibility. “It is a great honour.”  
“The Council are counting on you Anakin, to protect the Senator. The responsibility is not to be taken lightly.” Obi-wan hoped his mind was not only thinking of the pleasantries of spending time with the young and pretty senator.  
“Of course not, Master.” Anakin hoped he was not going to have to endure another lecture, “but the most difficult part will be to convince the Senator that it is in her best interests.”  
“Rather you then me.” Obi-wan finally relaxed, wondering why he felt so uncertain about the Council’s decision. He wasn’t sure if Anakin was ready yet.  
They reached the end of the Hall and Anakin bid his mentor farewell – he was to go to the Chancellor’s office and garner his support.  
“The Council will arrange transport for you and Senator Amidala,” said Obi-wan, “I’ll contact you when I have the details.”  
“Thank you Master,” said Anakin graciously, “where are you off to now?”  
“Nowhere interesting,” replied Obi-wan, “just back to the Library. Until later, keep well Anakin.”

“The Chancellor will be ready to see you in a moment. Please take a seat.”  
Waiting in the small lobby outside the Chancellor’s office, Anakin thanked the aide and made himself as comfortable as he could on the hard bench offered to him. It was difficult, as it had blatantly not been made with comfort in mind. Like the rest of the office suite, it was grandiosely decorated despite its relatively humble function. Sumptuous carvings formed vast murals that told stories of the history of the Republic, interspersed with pilasters forming an elegant support to the heavily decorated ceiling. It was surprising that their slender columns could hold such weight and he idly wondered it one day it would come crashing down. To Anakin, used to the simple, sparsely furnished hovels of Tatooine or the functional designs of a space cruiser, it was both awe-inspiring and terrible at the same time that places like this existed. Some part of him still wondered why he (a nobody, a former slave from Tatooine) was there at all.  
“It is troubling to think Senator Amidala is in so much danger,” sighed the Chancellor once he had been emitted into his office and explained the situation. They stood in his vast office, standing by the huge window that looked out over the city. In the distance Anakin could see the Jedi Temple shimmering in the haze around it, although it was caused by pollution rather than heat.  
“Master Kenobi believes it is a result of her opposition to the war.”  
“I would imagine so,” he nodded, “there are powerful interests that desire war against the CLONE, many whom would profit from it. As much as we try to tackle corruption it finds new means of asserting itself.” Turning away from the window he smiled, “So you need an executive order from me?”  
“Senator Amidala is reluctant to leave. She is concerned that without her presence on Coruscant there will be no one to lead the opposition party.”  
“Is that her concern?” asked Palpatine, looking at Anakin with a curious expression, “I am certain that other members of this faction are capable of following her commendable lead, although I will certainly miss her presence in the debate.” He coughed, the same debates already taking their toll on his health. “Let me talk to her and I am sure she will understand the concern we have for her safety.”  
“The Council will be very grateful for your assistance.”  
Stepping down from the dais, Palpatine headed over to his desk, a daunting slab of obsidian. He pressed the comlink; “Dar?”  
“Yes, your Excellency?”  
“Please send a request to Senator Amidala to attend to my office immediately.”  
The reply over the comlink was indistinct, “Certainly.”  
“Oh and inform Queen Jamilla of Naboo that we will be in need of a replacement in the Senate.”  
He clicked the comlink off and came back to the young Jedi, “Leave the Senator to me. I have every faith that she will see reason.”  
“Thank you, your Excellency.”  
As he escorted the young Jedi to the exit, the Chancellor placed a kindly hand on the young man’s shoulder. “It is wonderful news that you have been sent on your first assignment. I knew the Council would eventually realise your great potential.”  
“I have been patient,” he replied humbly.  
“You should have more belief in your capabilities, Anakin.” The Chancellor smiled, “Once the Council realise how much of an asset you are to the Republic, I am sure that you will be receiving more assignments of this kind.”  
“I am very grateful for their faith in me.”  
“It is always a pleasure to see you, Anakin,” said the Chancellor, pausing as they reached the end of the corridor. “You are a very gifted young man and I enjoy seeing how much you have profited from your Jedi training. I always thought that you will make a great Jedi one day and you are well on your way to realising this.”

Obi-wan wiped his weary brow. He had been in the Library for several hours and not yet managed to locate any books superficially on the Mandalorians or any reference to them in the annuals of the pre-Republic. He knew for certain that they existed but not according to the Library. He snapped another book shut, adding it to the vast pile in front of him.  
“Master Kenobi, how can I help you?” smiled the Librarian, Jocasta Nu. She had been responsible for the Jedi library and archives since way beyond Obi-wan’s arrival at the Temple. She was the keeper of the Journals, master of the annuals that recorded the history of the Republic, and Jedi, since time immemorial.  
“I was looking for some information on the Mandalorian sect of warriors,” said Obi-wan, “but I cannot find even a single reference.”  
“Have you checked the catalogues? I think you will find what are seeking in there.”  
“Thank you, Master Nu I will certainly try.”  
“You will find them arranged by subject if you search under the index.”  
“Thank you.”  
After a few more hours of searching and finding nothing, Obi-wan left the Library in dismay. He had not gone far when he met Mace Windu and Hedi Junnan walking in the grand and airy Corridor of Heroes.  
“Trouble, Obi-wan?” asked the perceptive Windu, seeing the perplexed expression on the younger Jedi’s face.  
“I was in the Library.”  
“I see.” Master Windu understood; visiting the Library was enough to make the bravest of Jedi Masters feel uncomfortable. “Have you proceeded any further in your investigations or is that a question I should not ask?”  
“I would not ask it yet,” admitted Obi-wan, “I think I will need to try a less traditional means of information gathering.”  
“Do whatever you need to,” agreed Windu sombrely, “it is troubling to think that the assassination attempts on Senator Amidala could be connected somehow to one of the Order.”  
“Indeed, Master. I cannot think it is true.”  
“Something else troubles you, doesn’t it Obi-wan?” asked Hedi Junnan kindly, fixing her large, melancholy eyes on Obi-wan.  
“I am not sure that my pupil is ready for a mission of his own.” Obi-wan knew that he could not hide the truth from two intuitive Jedi Masters.  
“The Council is confident that Anakin is ready for the task given to him,” said Windu, puzzled slightly as to Obi-wan’s source of uncertainty. “Besides, Senator Amidala knows Anakin and trusts him. With our resources stretched it seemed the most suitable decision in the circumstances.”  
“I realise that Master but it is unheard of for a learner to undertake such a mission before the trials.”  
“But Anakin has exceptional abilities has he not?” Windu smiled wryly, “you must learn to let go, Obi-wan.”  
“Yes, perhaps you should question the trust you have for Anakin.” Hedi nodded sagely.  
Obi-wan realised that he perhaps doubted Anakin’s ability and he felt ashamed. “I do trust him, you misunderstand me Master, but I feel there is still a way to go before he has completely mastered the demands of the Code.”  
“We all feel that way about our pupils at times,” said Mace Windu, clasping his hands together over his long robes. “But we must clear our mind of doubts and trust that we have trained them adequately to meet the demands placed on them.”  
“An exceptional student you are teaching, Obi-wan,” said Hedi, the crystals in her hair reflecting the soft lights hanging low beneath the ornate ceiling, “if the prophecy is correct.”  
“Sometimes I think that all this talk of prophecies has made Anakin rather too confident in his abilities.” Obi-wan was still uncertain; he had not been away from Anakin since their training had first commenced. He had reflected all evening on the implications of the decision of the Council and still he had not come to a satisfactory conclusion for his misgivings. They remained potent.  
“It is always a danger,” Hedi looked to Windu for his opinion.  
“Yes, I have noticed it,” said Windu, “but he needs encouragement at this time, not our censure.”  
Obi-wan felt chastened by their words, “I will endeavour to work on this with Anakin once he has returned from his mission.”  
“And you have your own mission to concern yourself with, Obi-wan,” added Mace Windu sympathetically, “do not forget that.”

“How is it supposed to look to the supporters of the war if I go running away? I don’t even know myself where I’m going!”  
Anakin had come to Padmé’s apartment to escort her to the spaceport. But she was still packing and was in the foulest of foul moods after speaking to the Chancellor. He had offered his services to help but she had snapped at him, saying that she could manage perfectly well by herself, he didn’t have to do everything for her. Since then he had kept out of her way by the window, watching the traffic, watching the citizens below scurry about their business, answering politely when she asked him for something but otherwise disengaged.   
But this was the first thing she had said for a while and Anakin suspected she required an answer. “My lady, I don’t believe it will take Master Kenobi long to discover the reason to this mystery. You will return to Coruscant soon enough.”  
“By then it will be too late.” Frustrated with the lack of information and, more currently, with her suitcase, which wasn’t large enough to hold everything she wanted to take, Padmé frowned at him. “I have worked so hard to maintain my opposition and not to be here when our fate is decided is intolerable. It is so important to the survival of our liberty and sending a clear message to those who seek to undermine it. If someone was targeting me for that very purpose then they have won!” Shoving another dress into the suitcase, she couldn’t make it fit whichever way she tried. Exasperated, she began emptying the contents of the suitcase out onto the bed, in order to start again.  
Anakin watched her thoughtfully for a moment, realising that for all her maturity and self-possession she could be as irritable and hot-headed as he. “My lady you not only jeopardise yourself by staying here, you further delay the vote to its detriment…”  
“Anakin…”  
Hearing the displeasure in her tone, however he ploughed on. “Hear me out, my lady. You have the support of Representative Bibble and as you told me, others who will not allow the Republic to slide into war. You have put the structures in place, it is now important for you to step back and trust that others will continue your admirable lead.”  
Realising that he was, in a roundabout way, praising her efforts rather than condemning them, she finally smiled. “I could never have imagined there was so much sense in that head of yours.”  
“Thank you, my lady.” He didn’t know whether to be pleased or insulted.  
“I’m surprised Obi-wan is happy for you to be coming with me,” she said, recommencing her packing, “he shows great concern for your training.”  
“He cannot disregard the command of the Council,” replied Anakin, looking out the window, “as much as he would like to. I know he doesn’t think that I’m ready for an assignment of my own yet.”  
Remembering the slight uneasiness she had sometimes noticed between the elder and the younger Jedi, she smiled. “I’m sure he’s only concerned for you, Anakin,” she replied, squashing another set of garments into the case, “I know from experience that concern can come across as restrictive but he has your best interests at heart.”  
“I wish he would have more faith in me,” sighed Anakin, wishing he had been able to broach the subject with his mentor. Obi-wan had been unusually distant the previous evening, preferring to spend his time alone in the meditation chamber rather than discuss strategy as Anakin had wished. “He has been so critical of late.”  
“Like any mentor,” remarked Padmé, pausing in her activity to regard him sympathetically, “he wants you to recognise your faults so that you can progress. I remember when I was training under the auspices of Senator Palpatine, he was very exacting. He made me spend hours in the debating chamber,” she remembered half fondly, “I wondered what the point was most of the time, especially when I felt like I was doing nothing but going to Senate, going to sleep and going back to Senate again. It was not until much later that I realised the point of the exercise was to expose me to as much of the political process as possible.”  
“I understand your point,” continued Anakin, looking out of the window, still on the guard for potential threats, “And forgive me for… letting off steam. I do appreciate everything Obi-wan has done for me, he has been a real friend as much as he has been a mentor. I know whatever he says, and does, is for my own good. I only wish I was better at accepting his criticism.”  
“But criticism always seems worse when it comes from those we admire,” replied the young Senator, recognising many of her own complaints in Anakin’s words. “And if we have high expectations for ourself, it only compounds the pressure we place ourself under.”  
“You put too much pressure upon yourself, my lady.”  
“I do,” said Padmé, teasingly mirroring his exact manner and tone.   
It was subtle, but he noticed. “Have you finished packing that case yet?”  
“I think I’m finished now.”  
“You think? I don’t know why you need to take so much,” laughed the young Jedi. “We are going to the middle of nowhere.”  
“A Senator needs to look her best at all times,” replied Padmé, stepping back so that he could pick up the case. “Unlike you Jedi, we care about our appearance.”  
Anakin ignored her slight. He happened to like his Jedi robes, although austere they commanded a certain aura, and respect, from non-Jedi. Picking the case up with difficulty, Anakin grimaced, “My lady, has Obi-wan asked to hide in your case so that he can keep an eye on me?”

“Ensure that Anakin looks after you, my lady,” said Captain Typho gruffly as the two young people met him and Obi-wan at the spaceport, “and do try to heed the counsel of the Jedi Council. If whoever is trying to assassinate you finds out where you are going…”  
“Thank you Captain,” said Padmé brightly, “but they would have to be exceptionally clever, even I do not know where I am going.”  
“I would not be so flippant my lady, considering the danger you are in,” scolded Typho.  
“I will be safe,” sighed Padmé, wondering if they would ever stop worrying about her. “and I trust Anakin to protect me.”  
“Have faith, Captain,” said Obi-wan, eager to get the goodbyes over with so he could return to more pressing matters, “Anakin is one of the rising stars of the Temple.”  
Padmé smiled at his confidence and glanced over at Anakin. “See, there is nothing to worry about, I will be in safe hands.”  
“Anakin,” said Obi-wan firmly, seeing that his pupil’s attention was wandering, “I want you to stay where the Council sends you unless you receive counter orders from me or from the Council. The last thing we want to do is to advertise Senator Amidala’s whereabouts. If you have to take any action that may compromise this, I must insist that you inform the Council immediately.”  
“Yes, Master.”  
“In other words do absolutely nothing without checking in with me or with the Council.”  
“The Senator’s security will be my first and only priority.”  
“Very good.” Obi-wan turned to the Senator. “Now we have more evidence I will endeavour to get to the bottom of this mystery as quickly as I can, my lady, so that you can return to Coruscant as soon as possible.”  
“Could you also delay the vote for me, Master Kenobi?” she asked defiantly, but seeing his exasperated expression she added more placatory, “I would be very grateful for your speed.”  
Anakin glanced out the window at the movement about the freighter outside. He saw the crowds were heading sluggishly towards the entrance opened on its starboard side. “It’s time to go, my lady.”  
“Yes.” She looked fondly at Dormé and Captain Typho one last time. “I am sure it will not be long until we meet again.”  
Anakin turned to Obi-wan. “Good luck with your investigations, Master.”  
“Thank you Anakin.” He embraced his young friend warmly. “May the Force be with you.”  
“And may the Force be with you, Master,” replied Anakin. It struck him that this would be the first time he had been away from Obi-wan for any length of time since he had begun his training all those years ago. No wonder Obi-wan was concerned about him. “I won’t fail you.”  
“I don’t expect you will,” replied Obi-wan warmly, embracing his friend once more. For he really meant it.

The Senator and the Jedi walked together towards the freighter, the Senator’s droid Artoo Deeto trundling along behind them. Padmé could not help looking back so that she could wave to the group watching them leave. Her face was all smiles but as soon as she looked round, the brightness disappeared.  
“Are you alright?” Anakin looked at her in concern.  
“Something doesn’t feel right,” she replied flatly.  
He nodded, feeling too the anxiety fluttering in his stomach. They were going into the unknown; it was not meant to be an adventure, just a routine protection mission. So why was he so anxious?

Obi-wan and Captain Typho watched them as the young couple, plus droid, disappeared up into the yawning chasm of the freighter, three lost among a crowd of hundreds.  
“I feel we are taking an enormous risk sending those two alone,” said Typho, clear worry etched on his face. “With respect Master Kenobi to the decision of the Council, Skywalker is still young. I hope that he is not too reckless in his attitude whilst he is with the Senator.”  
“I am not surprised at your concern,” said Obi-wan, placing a calm hand on his companion’s arm, “however despite his rather, shall we say flippant attitude at times, Anakin can be a very level-headed young man.”  
“Forgive me, Master Kenobi,” replied Typho, chastened by his lack of confidence, “I suppose it is not just Skywalker who I am concerned about. It’s what the Senator might do. She can be very headstrong when she chooses to be and she knows how to use her charm to good effect.”  
Obi-wan smiled knowingly, “All we can do is trust in the Council’s judgement. It is up to those two to not disappoint us.”


	5. Travelling Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Padme travel to an unknown location, giving them time to get to know each other better. Padme is teased by her handmaidens for travelling alone with the handsome Jedi. Back on Coruscant, Obi-wan makes use of his vast contact network to find out about the mysterious Fett and the 'floating world.'

Standard class on an inter-galactic freighter did not have the most comfortable or luxurious conditions in which to while away a journey. The large hold was gloomy and crowded with passengers of all sizes, shapes and noise levels. Although the seats were numerous, they were hard and uncomfortable and the food was largely unpalatable mush. The private cabin which they had rented was not much better, a small cramped room with a narrow bunk bed built into the wall and a tiny bathroom with a blocked sink and smelly toilet. It barely held Padmé’s luggage let alone a Jedi and a droid.  
For a Senator fresh from the top levels of Coruscant society, it was not a pleasant experience. In order to get used to her new surroundings, Padmé had gone for a wander around the hold. Whilst she was away, Anakin, still suffering from the effects of near insomnia and the strain of the last few weeks, had decided to have a short nap, which had turned into a long, if unsettled, sleep.  
Padmé, returning from her stroll, found Anakin sprawled uncomfortably across the bottom bunk, partially covered by a blanket. R2D2 was standing at the end of the bed and bleeped a welcome as she came in through the cabin’s door.  
“Shush Artoo, he’s asleep,” said Padmé, coming over to Anakin. She was not annoyed that her escort was deserting his duty; she felt nothing but tenderness for him at that moment. Reaching forward, she softly touched his forehead, amazed at how hot and clammy he was. “Poor thing. It’s probably the first proper sleep he’s had in ages.”  
Without warning, Anakin’s eyes snapped open and Padmé hastily withdrew her hand. Disoriented he sat up, trying to work out what was happening, where he was. Gradually as he remembered, the adrenaline left his system, and he began to relax.   
Then he observed that Padmé and Artoo were staring at him. They regarded each other for a moment, not saying anything.  
“What’s going on?” he asked eventually.  
“You were asleep,” said Padmé, using her suitcase as a precarious seat.  
“Was I? I only meant to have a nap,” he rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the sensation of grit.  
“You must have needed it.” Seeing his distress, Padmé continued her chatter. “Are you hungry? I’m afraid there isn’t much choice. Several kinds of mush in different colours.”  
“I’ll eat anything,” admitted Anakin, extracting himself from the blanket and attempting to sit on the bed. It did not help that he was over six foot tall and the bed was made for people much shorter than he; “Who is this bed made for? Jawas?”  
Padmé could not help laughing at his disgruntled face, “It will be okay for me then! Well, do you want to eat something? I can send R2 to get something for us.”  
“Sounds good,” he was used to eating the mush they served at the Temple so he couldn’t imagine space travel was any worse.  
It would be a while before Artoo returned and Anakina already felt his stomach starting to rumble. “Where’s those emergency rations?” he asked Padmé, who was searching through her case for something to read.  
“What, the ones for emergencies?” replied the young woman, finding her holopad and shutting her case firmly.  
“Alright, alright, I’ll wait,” sighed Anakin, giving up on sitting and lying down again on the bed. With Padmé taking the top bunk, he continued to talk to her to keep his mind off his hunger. “Have we gone into lightspeed yet?”  
“Yes, some time ago,” replied the Senator from above his head. “I don’t think it will be long until we reach Dar Shadda. I can’t wait to see where we’re going actually. I hope it’s somewhere quiet.”  
“I’m surprised they didn’t send us to Naboo.”  
“The Council are not stupid,” she scoffed, putting down her holopad, “it would be the first place an assassin would think to look.”  
“I don’t know,” said Anakin slowly, inspecting his fingernails, “sometimes things are less obvious when hidden in plain sight.”  
“Maybe.”  
“Naboo was a beautiful planet,” went on Anakin, memories of his time there clouding into his mind, “I would have liked to have spent more time there. Still,” he shifted his position, causing the bed springs to creak, “us padawans have very little control over our lives.”  
“I was interested in something that you said to me earlier,” she said thoughtfully, “about the restrictions that are placed upon the Jedi.”  
“The restrictions are there for our own good.”  
“Yes, but it must be difficult not to be able to switch off,” said Padmé undeterred by what she assumed was Anakin regurgitating what he had been told by Obi-wan, “if you have to watch what you are thinking and doing so carefully.”  
“The Jedi wield great power,” said Anakin soberly, “it would not be wise for us to be without limitations.”  
“Yes, I imagine so,” she agreed readily, “is that why the Sith are so feared? Because they place no so such limits on themselves?”  
“It less about limits then about power,” he explained, “the Sith give into their passions because they believe it gives them the ability to do anything through sheer will alone. The freedom this represents gives them greater power… or so they believe.” He added this so that she was certain he did not admire the Sith, “Having only met dead Sith, I haven’t had the occasion to ask them.”  
“So the Sith are stronger than the Jedi?”  
“They appear stronger because they are passionate and aggressive, traits which a Jedi must shun,” said Anakin carefully, “but fortunately power corrupts. The Sith are apt to overconfidence and infighting, which ultimately leads to their downfall. According to the Jedi Lore there can be no more than two Sith at one time because of this. Although in ancient times,” he went on,” it is said there were Jedi who could harness both the light and dark sides of the Force and hold them in balance. They were the most powerful Jedi of all.”  
“Is that why the Jedi come across as humourless and uptight,” laughed Padmé, “they are afraid of turning to the Dark side?”  
“Yes, a Jedi must not give into anger, or to fear, or anything which leaves us vulnerable to others. Emotions can be manipulated by the Dark side of the Force.”  
“What about love?”  
“What about it?” Her conversation topics were beginning to concern him.  
“Well, love leaves us open and vulnerable.”  
“It depends,” began Anakin hesitantly, “on the type of love you mean.”  
Padmé was suddenly interested in the definition of love sanctioned by the Jedi Code and told him so.  
He made an attempt to explain it. “Obviously, passionate love is frowned upon, as is any love driven by motives of greed or domination, which is lust. However, compassion is central to a Jedi's life, which could be defined as unconditional love for all kind and for the Universe itself. That is the type of love we are encouraged to feel, it has no specific object but is applicable to everyone and everything.”  
It was not a million miles away from Padmé’s own values.“But if you are encouraged to show love for everything, how can the Jedi also be warriors? Surely that means having to take sides?”  
“It is one of the more difficult aspects of the Jedi Code, I agree,” he smiled wanly, knowing that there were as many misconceptions about the Jedi as there were about senators. “Most Jedi believe in promoting peace above warfare. Although with the Jedi’s history you would be forgiven for thinking that.”  
He yawned loudly and Padmé suddenly remembered how tired he was, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be asking all these questions.”  
“You’re naturally curious,” he said pleasantly, “anyway, it’s my problem, I haven’t been sleeping well recently.”  
“Why not?”  
“Too many things to worry about.”  
Delicately, Padmé asked, “Does that include me?”  
“Of course,” admitted Anakin, “This is my first mission and they put me in charge of the safety of one of Coruscant’s most combative Senators...”  
“Very funny,” replied Padmé, picking up her holopad again, “anyway, whilst there is little danger in this cabin, why don’t you get some rest?”  
“I think I’ll try to,” agreed Anakin, rolling over onto his back and making himself as comfortable as he could, “wake me up when the mush comes will you?”

The corridor in that part of the building had seen better days, its grey walls battered and scarred by a continual lack of care. Rubbish was heaped in piles or scattered across the floor as though hit by fierce winds, adding to the sense of decay and neglect. Purely functional, at exact intervals all along the corridor were shallow recesses, containing numbered doors the only key to the fact that the building was occupied.  
Obi-wan knocked on the grey, blank door numbered THK 889. For a moment he couldn’t hear anything but then he heard some kind of shuffling, movement towards the door.  
It opened, and a pair of bright green eyes looked out. “Hello?” said a small quiet voice. “Who is it?”  
“It’s Ben,” said Obi-wan softly, checking round to see he was not being followed.  
“Come in.” The shadowed figure backed away so that Obi-wan could enter. Once inside, the girl locked and bolted the door securely. Tall and thin, dressed in a dull gray smock and tattered trousers, the girl had a plain, easily forgettable face except for her bright green eyes.  
Turning back to Obi-wan, she embraced him warmly, “So you’re back?”  
“I am indeed,” smiled the Jedi, who obviously knew the young lady well.  
“Do you want some tea? I just made some,” she said brightly, leading Obi-wan into a small plain living space. It was crammed full of papers and clothes scattered about, Obi-wan wondering as always how she managed to live in such chaos.  
“That would be lovely,” he replied, pushing some detritus out the way so that he could sit down on the couch. As he waited for her return, Obi-wan shifted through some of the papers, looking at a flimplast that caught his eye…  
“I just came back yesterday,” she came back with two steaming cups, and Obi-wan hastily put down the flimplast so he could help. “Sorry about the mess, I haven’t been home in ages. You’re lucky you caught me actually.”   
“Thank you Heyke,” said Obi-wan as she handed him the tea and sat down next to him. “Ow,” the cup was hotter than he expected and he put it on the table hurriedly, blowing onto his fingers to cool them.  
“Oh sorry,” Heyke looked mortified, starting to get up, “I’ll fetch...”  
“It’s alright, I’ll live.” Obi-wan made her sit down again, “as a Jedi we are taught to cope with more than small burns.”  
“Of course, how silly of me,” she said playfully, pushing a plate of broken and crumbled biscuits towards him to help ease the pain of the burn. “Have you been having fun training your little padawan?”  
“On the whole yes,” replied Obi-wan, helping himself to a couple of bits of gingernut. “Anakin is a bright spark to be sure and very willing. He is immensely brave and he has got me out of a few scrapes too. But… how can I put it? His energy is not always channelled into the appropriate areas.”  
“So he’s a bit of a handful then,” smiled Heyke with delight, she could imagine all the scrapes Obi-wan must be getting into. “Like you were.”  
His eyes opened wide in innocence, “I was never a handful.”  
“So you haven’t told Anakin about the time you almost caused a war between the Jedi and the Trefyan Warriors?”  
“No I have not,” said Obi-wan quickly, raising his eyebrows, “and anyway how did you find out about that?”  
“Oh, you know,” she grinned, sipping her tea, looking at him from her big green eyes, fringed with light lashes. “Anyway what brings you to see me? I guess this is not just a social call?”  
“No, I need your help with something. I need to find out where this comes from.” He handed her the blaster he had taken from the dead bounty hunter. It was not a make either Anakin or him had seen before.  
“Have you not taken it to analysis?” Heyke’s green eyes shone with mischief, she knew how much Obi-wan mistrusted droids.  
“Of course and as usual they were unable to identify it. Apparently it is not a make known within the Republic.”  
“They are right about that.” Heyke examined some marks along the blaster’s casing, “where did you get this?”  
“From a bounty hunter.”  
“One of the Fetts?”  
“That’s who gave her the assignment,” smiled Obi-wan, sipping his tea slowly for it was still burning hot. “But how would you know that?”  
“I’ve seen them use something like this before,” she said, taking another biscuit.  
“Then we are stuck,” sighed Obi-wan, sitting back in his chair, “for ten years we have been trying to trace the Fetts and we have got no closer to them.”  
“Maybe you should try Kamino.”  
“Kamino?” Obi-wan had not heard of it.  
“It means the floating world,” she explained, settling in the chair. “It’s supposed to be this one big ocean planet with strange cities that rise out of the ocean on immense platforms.”  
“The floating world? I have not ever heard of such a place.”  
“Not many have.” She sighed and handed the blaster back to the Jedi, “It was colonised by a species called the Bwell-we, who were forced to flee from their planet. Their star was dying. They keep themselves to themselves so little is really known about them, but they are known for their success in developing new technologies. I think this blaster is made by them, I recognise the markings.”  
“I see.” Obi-wan looked closely at the symbols. They meant little to him.  
“If you ask me, your best bet would be to go there and see if you can pick up the trail of your bounty hunter from there.”  
“I agree, thank you Heyke you are a fount of information. Do you know anything more about the Bwell-we?”  
“Their technology is very expensive.” She smiled, “obviously the Fetts are being well-paid for their… business.”  
“A Jedi and senators, I should think so.” He drained the last mouthful of tea. “Where is Kamino? In the Outer Rim I presume?”  
“Yes it is, about twelve parsecs outside the Rishi Maze, toward the south. It should be easy to find, but I’d check the star charts in the Library just to be sure.”  
“I knew you were going to say that, just my luck to need another trip to the library,” moaned Obi-wan.  
“I’ll come with you,” she said, grabbing her coat. “If you can sneak me into the Temple?”  
“If you’re sure?”  
“I have little else to do.”  
It was what Obi-wan had been hoping for. “Thank you. I would be glad of the company.”  
As they left the complex, she smiled at him. “The beard suits you.”  
“You think so?”  
“Yes, it makes you look older and wiser,” laughed Heyke.  
“I like the wiser bit but not sure about the older.”

Exiting the freighter into the bright sunlight of Dar Shadda was enough to cheer the most jaded of travellers; a holiday destination for the middle classes of the Galaxy, it was a place of small-scale elegance and friendly spirit. However, there was little time for Padmé and Anakin to explore their surroundings as they were to transfer to a second transport which would take them to a rendezvous with the Senator’s personal cruiser, equipped with a small entourage and two of her trusted handmaidens. It was a roundabout and exhausting way to keep the Senator’s movements secret but it ensured that only a very few people knew about her eventual destination.  
As they sat in the more comfortable surroundings of the Naboo cruiser, Anakin and Padmé had started talking about Naboo again, inspired by some of the pictures of the planet adorning the walls. Anakin was rhapsodising about its lakes and mountains, managing to make the poor Senator homesick. “You would not like it if I went on and on about Tatooine, would you?” she said defensively when he returned one of her less kind comments with sarcasm.  
“I wouldn’t care, there’s not much to say about Tatooine,” said Anakin readily, “it has virtually nothing to recommend it unless you like sand and want to get sunstroke.”  
“But you must miss your family?”  
“Yes I do,” said Anakin honestly, “I would have liked to have got to know Cleeg better, he seems like a good man and my mother obviously loves him. It was nice to see how happy he made her.”  
She nodded in understanding, “I miss my family too; they wanted me to come home as soon as they heard about the assassination attempt. I almost did.”  
“Why didn’t you?”  
Padmé looked him straight in the eye. “Duty.”  
“Ah yes, duty,” said Anakin crisply, “the great stealer of freedom.”  
She could not help but agree with him, “Sometimes it’s hard to remember why I wanted to be a Senator.”  
“Because you have had a taste of all the power and riches it can bring?” he teased her.  
“Hardly,” she pouted, realising that the conversation was giving her a chance to get some of her concerns out in the open to a friendly ear; “it’s not that glamorous being a Senator. It is a huge responsibility,” she said soberly, “and if I am completely honest, I am not always certain that I can represent my people’s wishes within the current climate of the Senate.” She thought about how fast she had grown up since her election as handmaiden to the late Queen Amidala; before then death, suffering and war had been far outside her experience, something to only read about in books. Now it had become all too familiar.  
“Do you ever feel lonely?” asked Anakin, sensing her discontent.  
“Yes, as crazy as it sounds, being surrounded by an entourage ready to do my every bidding can be a lonely experience,” she sighed. “Which is why,” she added shyly, “having someone to talk to, who possibly understands my situation, makes me feel better.” Usually her inner feelings had to be pushed aside in the demands of public life.  
“I understand,” replied Anakin softly, knowing that she referred to his presence, “I have experienced the same feelings during my training.” The heaviness of responsibility, the loneliness, the having to subdue negative emotions beneath a calm and positive exterior - all these demands took their toll on his spirit at times.  
“You don’t ever regret it, do you?” Padmé heard a tinge of sadness in his voice and wondered at it.  
“No, it is my destiny to be a Jedi,” he said assertively. “Qui-Gon and Obi-wan believed in me and I cannot let them down.”  
“But you have to want it too.”  
“I do.” He had fervently come to believe the words of Qui-Gon, that he was the Chosen One destined to restore the Jedi to greatness.  
“But the prophecy must place a huge amount of weight on your shoulders,” wondered Padmé, “I know I have the responsibility of my people on mine but you have history and legend on yours.”  
“Thanks for reminding me,” said Anakin, only lightly teasing this time. It was a great deal of pressure to bear, “and I am not always certain that I am capable of living up to its expectations.”  
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she replied gently, “I’m only thankful that I have been elected to serve my people. It means someone has confidence in me.”  
“I heard you were very a popular choice amongst the people of Naboo,” Anakin was relieved to turn back to talking about her experiences.  
“I am grateful for their support, especially since I am following in the footsteps of Chancellor Palpatine. He has done so much to raise the profile of Naboo and I can but hope to live up to his example. He helped save us from the CLONE and our people will not forget that.”  
“I think you forget your own role, my lady.”  
“I only did what anyone would have done,” responded the Senator humbly.  
“I don’t think that’s true. You had no thought for your own personal safety or advancement. All your actions were for your people, to bring peace. I admire that.”  
Padmé was silent. She had heard the same comments so many times from so many different sources. But for it to come from Anakin it meant more to her than from anyone else. And she wondered at the significance.  
The door opened smoothly, and Corday entered. “We have received a message from Queen Jamilla, my lady.”  
“I will attend immediately,” started Padmé before being interrupted by Anakin’s urgent voice.  
“We shouldn’t answer it, there will be a security risk.”  
“But it’s the Queen, Anakin,” said Padmé, waving away his concerns, “we can make sure it’s sent by a secure channel. Captain Typho will know how to encode the message we send back to remove all traces of our position.”  
“But my lady-” But his pleas fell on closed ears and he had to concede defeat.

Projected onto the console appeared a small hologram of Jamilla, Elected Queen of the Naboo surrounded by her entourage. Unlike Queen Amidala, whose coolness and reserve had been projected into her mask-like appearance and bearing, Jamilla was a patient and calm woman with inquisitive tawny eyes, whose openness was reflected in her relaxed demeanour and dress. Taking this all in, Anakin stood silently at the back of the cabin, his attention focused for the moment on the four silent handmaidens and members of the Naboo court who flanked the throne. Any of them could be a potential threat and he made a note of their names and positions in his mind for future reference.  
The reason for her communication was revealed quickly and soon the Queen was interrogating Padmé about the situation in the Senate. “How many systems have joined the Separatists?”  
“About two hundred, your Highness,” answered Padmé, “and more are leaving the Republic each day. I am not sure if it is from fear or genuine disaffection with the lack of democratic representation in the Senate.”  
“And the situation with the CLONE?”  
“When I left Coruscant the Chancellor was attempting to re-establish negotiations,” answered Padmé, carefully folding her hands in her lap, “but it seems the CLONE would rather attack vulnerable systems than agree on terms.”  
“And resort to terrorist attacks to get their way,” said Wargun, the Queen’s chief representative, dismally. “We assume these attempts on your life have been made by the CLONE-”  
“As yet there is no proof,” Padmé said quickly. “The Jedi are investigating the source of the attacks but have been hampered in their efforts to find the truth.” If only she could have seen how Anakin bristled at this response!  
“We are pleased to see you alive and well,” said the Queen, “When Chancellor Palpatine contacted us asking for a replacement in the Senate, we feared the worst.”  
“It is only a temporary measure, your Highness,” replied Padmé, “as soon as the perpetrators are found and the immediate danger has passed, I will return to my duties.”  
“One thing is certain, the CLONE are fast becoming a real menace,” said Makin Wargun angrily, “only last week we lost two more freighters in an attack close to Fornax. They are indiscriminate in their actions.”  
“They are committed to their desire to bring the Republic to its knees,” said Padmé. “But I fear the passing of the Military Creation Act more than anything. If the Senate votes for it we are sure to be pushed into Galactic war.”  
“We agree. And we are not prepared for war,” said Queen Jamilla crisply, “not on such a scale. We will do all we can to ensure the cause you have championed will prevail.”  
“Even if the CLONE reject all our attempts to meet them on neutral ground we must keep trying. The Separatists seem more amenable but I feel that they will also be threatened by the formation of a Republic army. If they are pushed, they may ally themselves with the CLONE.”  
From far across the stars, Queen Jamilla looked sadly at her. “We must keep our faith in the Republic,” she said simply, “the day we stop believing in it, the day it will fall.”  
“We can only hope that the day will never come,” added Padmé fervently. “The alternatives that are offered to us by the CLONE or the Separatists will be intolerable for most star systems like ours committed to fair and equitable government.”  
“Indeed, indeed,” said the Queen, “but until then you must consider your own safety. We will not try to contact you again until the danger has passed.” She leaned back in her high, ornately carved throne, still scarred with the laser burns inflicted on it during the siege of Threed. At the time, the new Queen had been urged to replace the throne but she had insisted it be kept as a memorial to the brave actions of her predecessor.  
Padmé smiled thinly, “The Jedi Council are sending me somewhere safe.”  
“They told us as much,” replied Queen Jamilla, “and they insisted that this communication with you is to be our last.” She added, “We had an audience with your father.”  
“How was he?” If there was a slight tremor in her voice then only Anakin noticed it.  
“Very well. He was asking if you might be allowed to visit Naboo but I imagine that will not be possible.”  
“No it will not.” Padmé’s face remained impassive, “Your Majesty, I would be grateful if you could pass on my regards to my family. Please tell them that I am thinking of them.”  
“We will and we have asked Sio Bibble to inform us of the Senate’s decision as soon as it has been made,” said the Queen earnestly. “He will not fail us, Padmé.”  
“I am less worried about Representative Bibble than the other senators who are wavering in their support,” said Padmé grimly.  
“We will do all in our power to ensure that our position of peace is maintained.” Queen Jamilla smiled across the vast expanses of space between them. “Be careful Senator Amidala. You will be in our thoughts.”  
“Thank you, your Highness. You are most kind.”  
The screen winked off, leaving only a thoughtful silence in the cabin. With the mention of her family, and their concern for her safety, the enormity of her predicament had finally struck Padmé and it was not a pleasant realisation. Behind her, Anakin had his own anxieties to contend with, not least his concern that the communication with the Queen could pose a security risk, even if had been sanctioned by the Chancellor. Still, there was little he could do except maintain his vigilance and try to assert some authority over the wilful Senator. As he escorted her back to her private cabin, he told her of his concerns and the need to keep outside contact to a minimum.   
Once made aware of the dangers, Padmé was surprisingly open to his suggestion. However, she attempted to diminish his concern for her; “Anakin, believe me, I’m glad they let you accompany me. When Obi-wan was saying that I had to go into hiding, immediately I was dreading that they would send here with some boring old Jedi who wouldn’t let me have any fun-”  
“Who said anything about fun?” said Anakin, trying to look serious. But a snort of laughter from Padmé revealed his expression to be a fraud as he too burst out laughing. Dispelling some of the tension from the journey, Anakin bade the Senator a fond “Goodnight” before returning to his own cabin.

Since entering the stifling atmosphere of the Temple library, Obi-wan and Heyke so far had managed to evade the gaze of Jocasta Nu. It wasn’t that non-Jedi weren’t allowed in the Library but so few non-Jedi entered that any were bound to be a talking point.  
“Oh, who is that?”  
They were both sat at one of the consoles, waiting for the star charts to load. Behind the consoles were a number of busts, the “Lost Twenty” an unusual commemoration of the Jedi who had grown disillusioned with the Order and departed.  
Looking up, Obi-wan found himself staring into the blank eyes of Dooku, captured in bronze. “It’s Dooku.” His face hadn’t looked so grim before but he now saw it from a new perspective in the light of Dooku’s divergent career.  
“Why did he leave the Order?” Even Heyke’s vast knowledge did not extend to the Jedi.  
“It was after Master Qui-Gon’s death,” said Obi-wan softly, “he felt the Order had lost its focus.”  
There was a bleep and the screen was filled with the hundreds of systems that made up the Galaxy. “Here we go. Where did you say Kamino was?”  
“South of the Rishi Maze.” She watched as Obi-wan typed in the co-ordinates. “The sculptor has captured him rather well. I saw him give a lecture once. He was different to the other Jedi, something in his manner.”  
“Pride, I think you call it.” Obi-wan frowned as the screen turned up a blank. “According to the archive, Kamino doesn’t exist.”  
“It must.” This time Heyke typed in the co-ordinates but again it turned up nothing, so they tried again, a fourth time. “How bizarre.”  
“There’s only one thing to do.” Touching one of the vast array of buttons on the panel, Obi-wan called for the librarian, “and if she asks, you’re a padawan.”  
“A padawan?” she pulled a face, “can’t I be a knight…?”  
“No, now shush,” cautioned Obi-wan as he saw Jocasta Nu heading towards them, but he couldn’t help but smile at her sulky expression.  
“Hello Master Kenobi,” Jocasta Nu smiled benevolently. Her jade eyes alighted on the young female beside him, “Sorry I don’t think I remember…”  
“Padawan Heyke,” said Heyke with a broad smile.  
“I am sorry, I don’t recall seeing you here previously,” repeated the librarian, smiling benevolently but regarding the young woman with hawklike eyes.  
Glancing at Heyke, Obi-wan said quickly, “Indeed, there’s so many new padawans I don’t how we keep tabs on them all.”  
“Of course,” chuckled the librarian, “why only yesterday Master Ye’ses brought in five more young ones I had not seen before. Well, how can I help you both?”  
“We’re trying to find a system called Kamino but it’s not showing up any of the archive charts.”  
“Really? Let me see.” Leaning over Obi-wan’s shoulder, she touched panels on the screen, frowning as nothing helpful appeared under the index. “Are you sure you have the right co-ordinates?”  
“We’ve tried them four times,” Heyke retained her smile.  
“According to our information,” continued Obi-wan more conciliatory, “it should be in this quadrant here… close to the Rishi Maze.”  
“Maybe your source of information was faulty.” She tapped on the screen, hoping the star charts would bring a resolution to the mystery.   
As the new information flashed up, Obi-wan glanced at an outraged Heyke. “It is highly unlikely, I trust my sources implicitly.”  
“Very well.” Unconvinced, Jocasta Nu shook her head. “But there is nothing there to suggest the system you speak of. I think we should let Master Windu know. It seems an alarming suggestion that the archives are incomplete.”   
From their early training, the Jedi had been lead to believe that the Library archives were comprehensive and secure. One thing Obi-wan had always been certain of was that if something existed it would be recorded in the library, however trivial. This oversight was suddenly imbued with terrible significance. “No, Master Nu, you do not need to do that,” he assured her, “I will inform Master Windu myself.”  
“Very well. I hope he provides you with an answer. Good day to you both.” Jocasta left them both to it, pleased to be able to get back to sorting through her precious documents.  
“So where is it?” Heyke looked at the screen in frustration. “Obi-wan, can you find the area where it should be?”  
“It should be here,” Obi-wan pointed to a space in the planets represented visually on the screen, “the gravity is focused on this area but there is only an empty space. It’s as if a whole planet has vanished.”  
“That’s it. But it can’t have vanished from space. Could someone have erased it from the map?”  
“Erased it?” Wondering why he had not thought of that, Obi-wan looked at her. “But surely no-one can erase information from an archive. You add information to an archive, not take it away.”  
She shrugged, “Plenty of archives have been destroyed in times of warfare and conflict, by competing regimes and by those who wish to hide something.”  
“I think we have an example here of the latter,” said Obi-wan thoughtfully. “Come on, we should get out of here.”

“Do you want to talk about anything, my lady?” As they sat together in the Senator’s cabin, Ellé had been watching her mistress carefully and saw that her mind was preoccupied with something.  
“What like?” asked Padmé, looking up from the flimplast she was reading.  
“A-n-a-k-i-n,” Ellé spelt out his name slowly and teasingly.  
“What’s there to talk about?” said Padmé, making her disinterestedness obvious, “he’s a Jedi and the Council sent him with us to protect me.”  
“I’ve seen the way you look at him,” said Ellé, determined to provoke the truth from the Senator by fair means or by foul, “and there is something in his manner which suggests he likes you too-”  
“There’s nothing going on,” said Padmé firmly, “we are friends, that is all.”  
Ellé pulled a face, “He’s always close to you. I can hardly speak to you my lady without tripping over Anakin.”  
“That’s because he’s protecting me.”  
“It’s more than that,” she pressed, “you never complain about having to spend so much time in his company.”  
Padmé shrugged, “He’s a nice young man and easy to get along with.” Before the handmaiden could comment, she grabbed Ellé’s hand, “but there is nothing happening between us and nothing ever will.”  
“Not ever?”  
“He is here to do a job!” cried Padmé, folding her arms. “When it is finished he will be returning to the Jedi Temple. I might not ever see him again.”  
Ellé raised her eyebrows. “I don’t see why you’re so defensive, my lady, he’s young, he’s very attractive-”  
“And unobtainable,” added Padmé, hugging her arms closer to her chest to quell her beating heart. Even if her feelings for Anakin were becoming confused, and unfortunately visible to her close companions, there was little she could do to resolve the situation.  
“Why’s that?”  
“A Jedi cannot fall in love, silly,” said Padmé as if it was common knowledge. “They’re not allowed any attachments that might compromise their duty. It’s forbidden.”  
“Really?” remarked the handmaiden with disappointment, tucking a loose strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. “So how do they have any Jedi babies?”  
“Ellé!” shrieked Padmé, horrified but laughing all the same at the handmaiden’s logic.  
“It’s a fair question,” said Ellé innocently, but soon she was laughing too, realising the absurdity of the thought.  
“I’d never really thought of it like that,” Padmé wiped the tears collecting in the corner of her eyes; she hadn’t laughed so much in such a long time. It was just too funny thinking of all the sober, dispassionate Jedi Knights in relation to the messier business of making babies.  
“Is there no way the rules can be relaxed?” Ellé was determined to return to the objective of the conversation now that they had calmed down, “if they interrupt the path of true love…”  
“Of course not.” Despite her best attempts, she was becoming flustered, Ellé was so persistent, “It’s just not possible.”  
“If he is in love with you, nothing should prevent him from…”  
“Ellé!” she tried to be firm, “Remember your place. Besides, at the moment I have no time for love,” she continued loftily, “and neither does Anakin, he is busy with his training.”  
There was a silence. Whilst Padmé brooded on all the issues that a far-too-persistent Ellé had brought up, the handmaiden was gathering her resources for a new onslaught. “You do like him though, don’t you?” When the Senator remained obstinately silent, clamping her mouth tight shut, Elle tried another tack, “You can tell me, my lady. I will not reveal it to anyone else.”  
She shook her head.  
“Please my lady, I promise I won’t tell a soul.”  
Close to breaking point, Padmé conceded it would be a relief to tell someone of her feelings for Anakin; even to speak them out loud might release the tension that had built within her heart, “You promise?”  
“I promise,” said Ellé dutifully.  
“You won’t tell Corday… or Dormé when we get back?”  
“I promise not to tell Corday or Dormé,” she repeated willingly, “nor will I tell anyone else, you have my solemn vow, my lady. I give you permission to do very nasty things to me if I break that vow.”  
“And I promise they will be very nasty.”  
After all the fuss, Ellé felt the need to repeat the question, “So, do you like Anakin Skywalker my lady?”  
Padmé was hoping that she could wriggle out of an admission but she was blushing too much and she hid behind her hands, “Stop interrogating me.” There was a pause. “Okay, okay, I do like him, more than I should. There I said it - are you happy now?”  
“I thought so,” smiled the handmaiden triumphantly, “and so did Corday.” Padmé seemed to have forgotten the sharp eyes of her companions; they were not ignorant of the looks that passed between the Senator and the Jedi, and the dispassionate mannerisms they affected around each other. It seemed that their behaviour was only unknown to the two young people themselves.  
“You already knew?” squeaked Padmé, not daring to think about what the two handmaidens had been discussing in private.   
“Yes, my lady. With respect, neither you or Anakin are capable of hiding your emotions very well.”  
Obviously she had not been as careful as she had thought. Still, she was glad of the chance to make her confession. Her feelings for Anakin had become a burden of sorts. “Why are you so interested in whether I like him or not?”  
“Because we want to see you happy,” said Ellé, embracing her. “But maybe it is not such a good thing after all considering what you have said about the Jedi’s attitude to love.”  
“No, it would not be a good thing for either of us,” she murmured, knowing it was futile to believe that anything could happen between them. Eager to lighten the mood she said teasingly, “So you think Anakin is attractive?”  
“Yes, he is a very handsome young man,” said Ellé with a smile, “and with your beauty, my lady, you two look very well together.”  
Smiling, Padmé added more mischievously, “I think I will have to tell him that.”  
Ellé frowned, “My lady, I will have to stop you.”  
“Oh you will, will you?” Padmé grabbed a pillow from one of the narrow beds and brandished it at the astonished handmaiden, “who’s in charge here?”

Humming contentedly to himself, Anakin was making his way to the Senator’s private cabin to report on the ship’s progress. Reaching the door, a suggestion of hysterical laughter floated into his consciousness and took him by surprise. It was a moment before he raised his hand to press the button for the communicator.   
After a pause, a shaky voice spoke, “Who is it?”  
“Anakin Skywalker, my lady.”  
“Come in.” There was something not quite right about the voice, it sounded tremulous and concern began to seep into Anakin’s calm poise. Perhaps something had happened?  
As the door slid open, he entered with haste, “My lady, is everything okay?” He trailed off as he noticed the scene of devastation before him. Padmé and Ellé were lying giggling on the floor, concealed under scattered falls of white stuff, their hair hanging crazily about their faces and their cheeks bright red from exertion. A broken pillow was carelessly discarded on the floor, the bedclothes were strewn around. Immediately he could sense that this was nothing to do with outside forces and he began to relax.  
“We’re fine,” Padmé attempted to put on a serious face but it was too much and she collapsed into giggles again, holding onto Ellé as if her life depended upon it. “What is it?”  
“We’re making good progress, my lady, and we will reach our destination by 0400 hours.” Realising that the situation was due to some interaction between two young females, Anakin reported his information quickly, made his excuses and left.  
“Oh dear!” said Padmé, looking with mock-alarm at Ellé. It was after all, she reflected, not the best of circumstances for a serious and conscientious Senator like herself to be caught in. But it had been worth it; Anakin’s face had been a picture.  
In the corridor, Anakin afforded himself a small chuckle as he headed back to the cockpit. Obviously the Senator wasn’t as strait-laced as she liked to imply.


	6. Danger on Dantooine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padme and Anakin arrive on Dantooine, which will be their home for the duration of Padme's exile from Coruscant. They explore their surroundings, but struggle with their growing feelings for each other, especially when Padme's life is threatened by an attack from a bounty hunter. They are forced to leave the planet and this time the Jedi Council leave it up to Padme and Anakin to decide where to go. Meanwhile, Obi-wan finds that the planet he needs is called Kamino.
> 
> Warning - there is some violence in this chapter when Padme's life is threatened and she is captured by a bounty hunter. There is a decapitation.

It was not until they docked on Dantooine in the mid-afternoon of a gloriously sunny day that the Senator’s safe haven was revealed to the occupants of her cruiser. Padmé herself was pleased with the choice: Dantooine was barely populated, a planet of isolated farmsteads and small settlements, rarely visited by outsiders. As a consequence, it abounded in natural beauty, the environment relatively untouched in some sectors of the planet unlike the heaving Coruscant. Padmé had to admit to Anakin that the Jedi Council had chosen their hideaway well.  
They were to be residing at a former Jedi enclave on the north-west continent, an area characterised by extensive, sweeping grasslands and scattered farmsteads. It was a striking building, built in the local grey stone that had weathered over the centuries to a soft patina. Organised around a central courtyard covered by a dome of opaque glass, the enclave was only one storey high with rooms around each side, forming a large square. Surrounded by a high wall and extensive gardens, it was relatively easy to defend, built simply with a central corridor that joined all the rooms. The courtyard could only be reached by entering the building, and there was only one door for both entrance and exit. It meant there were no nooks and crannies for potential assailants to hide in.  
Whilst Anakin went to inspect the rooms and assign the most appropriate one to the Senator, Padmé went straight to the courtyard in the middle of the complex. There she found a large paved area, interspersed with small beds filled with sweet smelling herbs, at the centre of which was a small fountain. The flow of the waters reminded her of the fountains in Threed and she took a seat on the small bench next to it. After some reflection, lulled by the water’s gentle murmur, inevitably her thoughts turned to Anakin. Here, she was not alone with him but she knew that with little business to attend to there would be many more opportunities to spend time with him. How she felt about that she was not exactly sure. After what Ellé had said she knew she had to face up to the knowledge that she did think about him in a way that was more than friendly or professional. What she did next, however, would be more important; did she follow her impatient heart or the cool logic of her head?  
“My lady?”  
Deep in her thoughts, Padmé hadn’t heard Anakin approach but there he was beside her, his hair forming a bright halo around his earnest face as the sun shone down onto it through the dome.  
“Hello Anakin,” she said brightly, “have you decided which of the rooms will be most secure for me?”  
“Yes, I think this one here,” he pointed to one of the windows facing onto the courtyard, “I think you will like it.”  
“Yes, I would like to look out onto the courtyard.” Concerned with not coming across too enamoured of him, instead she sounded stilted and reserved. It was so hard to get the balance right, “I think we should be safe here,” she continued.  
“I know we will be safe,” replied Anakin dryly, looking up at the dome to see how safe it was, “We really are in the middle of nowhere.”  
“There should be interesting ruins to explore,” said Padmé, trying to remember what she had learnt about Dantooine in the Academy, “this area used to be far more populated than it is now.”  
“Really?” Anakin was barely listening, scanning the area for potential problems.  
“Are you alright, Anakin?” she asked; after her conversation with the handmaidens she had half expected to see evidence of Anakin’s interest in her, but instead his attention was focused on anything but her and she felt aggrieved.  
“Yes, my lady.” He turned back to her, “I am satisfied that this house will be secure.”  
So that’s what he was thinking about, her security and protection. For some reason it irritated her, “Well then,” she said, eager to divert his attention back to her, “why don’t you show me the room you have chosen?”

Out on the terrace that ran along the north side of the Jedi Temple was the curious sight of twenty children waving lightsabers about as bright beams of light were emitted from swooping remotes, their features hidden beneath blast helmets. To one side, Mace Windu was barking orders, giving encouragement and generally keeping order amongst the mayhem. Into this chaos came Obi-wan, pleased to see that the numbers of new recruits seemed buoyant.  
“Don't think,” Mace was saying as the learners fumbled about. “Feel. Be as one with the Force.” Turning, he noticed Obi-wan striding towards them across the terrace and clapped his hands together, “Everybody stop, we have a visitor.”  
Not needing more encouragement (Master Windu was known for being a hard taskmaster and any distraction was welcomed) the young Jedi stopped what they were doing as the newcomer approached. “Hello Master Kenobi,” they chorused, little medley in the confusion of accents and languages.  
Obi-wan smiled, “Hello padawans, hello Master Windu. I am awfully sorry to disturb you.”  
“What help can we be?”  
“I have something to tell you, Master Windu. In confidence, if I may.”  
“Let’s go inside. Alright class, you are dismissed. Remember to tidy away the practice lightsabers into the lockers before you go to lunch. If any are left out, I’ll be adding additional exercises to your evening class!”  
Nosily the group followed Master Windu and Obi-wan inside, laughing and jostling amongst themselves. Watching them for a moment as they tidied the weapons away, Obi-wan reflected that it not seem long since Anakin too had been training with this group.  
“Where is Anakin, Master Obi-wan?” asked Hala Ketra, a curious, dark-eyed girl.  
“He’s been sent away on a mission.” As he had towered over most of the younger Jedi, Anakin had become a bit of a legend amongst the padawans, particularly because he was so irreverent. For some unidentifiable reason they liked that frustrating aspect of his character.  
“What? On his own?” asked a thin boy with sallow skin incredulously.  
“Yes, Brynx,” said Obi-wan patiently, “he has been sent on his own.” This provoked excited whispers amongst them, whether of surprise or confidence Obi-wan could not tell.  
As soon as the last of the padawans had disappeared into the corridors of the Temple and Mace and Obi-wan were alone, Obi-wan told the Jedi Master about his experience with Kamino. “How could such information be erased from the archives? Who would be able to do that?”  
Mace was immediately troubled. “Only a Jedi Master could erase information from the archives.”  
“A Jedi Master?” Obi-wan breathed deeply. “But who would want to do that?”  
“I don’t know.” Mace looked at him thoughtfully, “It wouldn’t be one of the present Council I can assure you. But Obi-wan, tell me, what significance has Kamino to your investigations? It is not a system that is familiar to the Republic.”  
“According to the markings on this blaster, there is a link to Kamino through the Fetts. However, it seems that Senator Amidala’s assassins were hired by the same organisation that ordered the murder of Ansuera Ban, as similar markings were found on the dart which killed her. I would like permission to travel to Kamino and find out about their connection to the Fetts.”  
“I see,” Mace nodded thoughtfully. “The Council will sanction your mission, Obi-wan, as I sense that something important is happening there which has escaped our attention.”  
“Yes, which makes it even more pressing to find out how Syfo Dyas was involved in all this,” frowned Obi-wan. “It may be that he was the Jedi Master that erased the information from the archives.”  
“If he was involved at all,” replied Mace sceptically, “but you are right, we must investigate this lead to find out what organisation is behind these murders. The disturbance in the Force is growing stronger and it seems the Senate is not far from supporting this war against the CLONE; if that happens it will need all our attention as we will have to inform the Senate that the Jedi Order is not strong enough to defend the Republic. The Chancellor is doing all he can but even he is losing hope.”  
They walked together along the empty corridor, concerned for the situation the Republic found itself in; on the cusp of war, unprepared and surrounded on all sides.  
“I wish I had Anakin with me,” said Obi-wan after a while, “I am concerned that we have not heard anything from him.”  
“On the contrary, we received word today that he and the Senator have reached Dantooine safely. Remember we asked him to contact the Council only if he was in need of help or if Senator Amidala was in immediate danger.”  
“Forgive me, Master Windu. I worry about him.”  
“I am sure you do,” Mace placed his hand on Obi-wan’s shoulder, “he’s your first pupil. Some of us older Jedi can forget what that was like.” Most of the time on purpose; Mace always shuddered when he remembered some of the scrapes he had got into because of over-eager padawans.  
Bidding the elder Jedi Master farewell, Mace Windu watched as the younger Jedi hurried towards the elevators, reflecting on his concerns about young Anakin Skywalker. The Council had not believed themselves to be too hasty in giving Anakin his first assignment but neither should Obi-wan’s doubts be ignored.

Over breakfast, Padmé had suggested that it would be a good idea to go for a walk out of the complex and explore the nearby surroundings. It had not taken them long to investigate the complex thoroughly and, finding little remains of the family that had once lived there, had found little else to do during the endless days of waiting to be called back to Coruscant. Whilst it was not difficult for Anakin to agree with her whims, longing for some kind of adventure himself, he did half-heartedly remind her first that they were supposed to be keeping to the complex for security reasons. Padmé only smiled at his concern: already anticipating his response, she had dressed herself in a sensible looking outfit that she hoped would help her fit in with the local populace; a grey set of overalls, large brimmed hat, and long coat. It had the desired effect, rendering her less a senator than a farmer, as Anakin laughingly chided her. Nevertheless it convinced him that a little exploration would not harm them, as long as they did not stray too far.   
Leaving the enclave, soon they were walking through the sweeping grasslands that surrounded the farmstead, taking in the unfamiliar sights and the sounds. There were no people around or evidence of any other settlers. Instead, only huge horned beasts grazed the plains, seemingly benign and quite open to being petted. Other smaller, furrier animals were more wary of the two strangers in their midst but neither did they represent a danger, although Anakin kept a careful hand on his lightsaber in case.  
“I think this is the laziest I have ever been,” smiled Padmé as they headed towards where the map indicated there were some interesting ruins. She had found the map in one of the communal rooms in the enclave, although the caretaker had warned her to be careful of entering the ruins as they mouldered with secrets few understood. Dark places they are, he had muttered, glancing at Anakin as if in warning. But that had only piqued Padmé’s curiosity even more. “I hope I don’t get too used to it.”  
Anakin smiled, securing his grip on the bulky picnic basket, “I think I could get used to it. I don’t miss the bustle of the city.”  
“It seems like only yesterday that you were telling me how much you loved being on Coruscant.” She shook her head; the dark curls dancing with delight beneath her hat. “What about all your Jedi friends? What about Obi-wan? Don’t you miss him?”  
“Yes, of course I miss him,” said Anakin in distraction, “I haven’t really been apart from Obi-wan since the Council agreed that he could train me.” It seemed strange without him; he was not used to making decisions without the opinion of Obi-wan to rely on. He relished the freedom but not the responsibility that came with it.  
“You and he must be very close.”  
“Yes we are, but I don’t miss him telling me what to do. I think he secretly likes ordering me around.”  
As Padmé smiled, her cheeks dimpled. “I think it will get boring for you here, after the excitement of Jedi missions. Don’t you worry that you’ll forget everything, having nothing better to do except entertain me all day?”  
“Training to be a Jedi is not like learning something for a test,” said Anakin seriously, “a Jedi is learning all the time. We build our knowledge slowly and consciously, letting our experience help us to understand the mysteries of the Force. So in fact when it appears that I am not doing anything I am in fact very busy, remembering and putting into practice the very things that Obi-wan has imparted to me. A Jedi does not forget anything because we are always aware of the Force’s presence and how we can use it for good. So, no I’m not worried, I’m more worried about keeping you happy, my lady, you are more demanding than any Jedi Master.”  
“Very funny, Anakin,” said Padmé, but she was impressed, even she had not realised what it was to be a Jedi. It struck her that it was not surprising that Anakin was a little wayward, particularly if he always had to be mindful of his role, of his purpose. She imagined it came more easily to some than others – and even she, however devoted she was to her cause and to the Republic, could at least forget being a senator at times. But a Jedi could never be anything else.   
“It’s a big commitment you are making,” she said finally, “I admire you for that. It can’t always be easy.”  
“No, it’s not,” said Anakin, “but it’s not always that serious either. We can have fun.”  
“What? You and Obi-wan?” Padmé thought of Obi-wan, with his scratchy beard and shrieked with laughter.  
“What’s so funny about that?” Anakin kept a straight face.  
She regarded him critically. “You were much easier to tease when you were younger, you know that?”   
“Maybe I’ve grown up?”  
“Maybe. I don’t know why you want to grow up, I wish I was still young,” she said wistfully, “I had fewer fears then.”  
“You shouldn’t have any fears now,” he looked at her meaningfully.   
“Because you’re here to protect me?”  
“That’s what I meant.” Last night he had dreamed that he had saved Padmé from a fire that swept through the complex, particularly remembering the moment when dream- Padmé had given him a passionate kiss in return for his heroic deed.  
Padmé smiled but her mood had turned solemn. “You can’t protect me from everything. Even now decisions are being made that will eventually decide our fates.”  
“I know that there are many things outside my control, my lady,” admitted Anakin, adding more pompously, “but here I am in charge.”  
“Oh you think so?” rejoined Padmé, laughing when she saw the tell-tale twinkle in his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”  
As they rounded the corner of a low outcrop of rock, they found the first of the broken walls. The ruins lay hidden, overgrown and desolate. As they approached, they saw what had been the entrance, marked by several tottering pillars of rock, some leaning drunkenly against the other, others tumbled to the ground overrun with grass. According to the map, it appeared that once they had formed a neat and tidy avenue, but now it was more of a perplexing jumble.  
“I wonder what this place was for,” mused Anakin, scrutinising the map that Padmé clutched, peering over her shoulder.  
Padmé hesitated, no longer so sure she wanted to explore. “It’s very overgrown.”  
Anakin felt a multitude of whispers crawling towards him, tugging at his mind, trying to tell him secrets that had been hidden for centuries. They intrigued him and he dragged the unwilling Senator towards the entrance, starting to climb over one of the fallen pillars blocking the entrance. “There’s nobody here. What’s there to be afraid of?”  
Not wishing to be outdone, Padmé took a deep breath and followed him, “Nothing but shadows.”  
“Shadows can’t hurt us.” But it was strange that nothing flew overhead, or any creatures grazed nearby; aside from the tangled vegetation there were no traces of any living thing.  
They found their way into a large echoing chamber built of large blocks of smoky-coloured stone, leading into another chamber with three antechambers leading off either side and to the front. All the entrances had been torn away and part of the ceiling had caved in, leaving the ruins open to the elements. Light filtered down from these gaps in the roof through tangles of vegetation, but it did little to lift the atmosphere of gloom.  
“Look at this,” said Padmé, pointing to a tangle of rusted metal that lay thrown in the corner, “it looks like a droid of some kind.”  
“I wonder what it was for,” replied Anakin, watching centuries of dust dancing giddily in a shaft of light, “there’s not much left.”  
As Padmé nosed about in the darker recesses, looking for clues to the building’s use, she eventually became very aware that she was alone. “Anakin?”   
Coming back to the first chamber, she could see no sign of him. Only the picnic basket where he had left it, an incongruous reminder of reality in a place forgotten, “Anakin!” Anxiously she searched for him, wondering if he had gone outside, wondering if he had fallen down into a deeper level, wondering if…  
“What is it?”  
Both his quiet voice and the hand on her shoulder startled her, particularly since the eeriness of the ruins was playing on her mind. She spun round to face him, “Don’t do that!”  
“Do what?”  
“Disappear like that.”  
“I was only over there,” Anakin pointed to the eastern chamber. “There’s enough of the stairs left to climb onto the roof, come on.”  
“You weren’t there,” grumbled Padmé, still petulant, “I just looked in there.”  
“Then you didn’t look very carefully.”  
If he was trying to get a rise from her, she was annoyed because he had succeeded. “You must have been hiding from me.”  
“I wasn’t hiding,” protested Anakin. Her reaction was most unexpected to him not least because she had missed him. He could feel it.

“What a view,” sighed Padmé as she emerged onto the roof, taking in a deep breath of fresh air to expel the memory of the stagnant environment of the ruins.  
They had emerged out onto a narrow promontory, all that was left of the support for the roof. From there they could see out over extensive plains, dotted here and there with tiny straggling trees. The sky was clear enough to see all the way to the glittering sea at the fringes of the horizon.  
Beside her, Anakin had gone very quiet, “Are you alright?”  
“Many things have happened here,” he said absently. “I can feel something of it, only traces, but enough.” He shivered, feeling cold despite the sultry warmth of the afternoon. He wondered what the voices were trying to tell him, shutting out external distractions to make himself more receptive to their secrets.  
“What like?” She had to admit she was fascinated by Anakin’s intense connection to the Force; sometimes it seemed he was not a corporeal being but merely a conduit for its energy.  
“It was once a source of great power,” he said, his voice faraway as he submerged himself in the whispers, “and… betrayal.” But, then, shaking his head he added, “There’s only darkness here my lady, I think it’s best we leave it buried.” Although overhead there was no sign of trouble in the vast, unbroken blue of the sky, the atmosphere had turned chilly.  
Seeing his discomfort, Padmé touched his arm. “We should go.”  
Her gentle touch had dispelled some of his disquieting thoughts but the feelings remained. “I agree.”  
Walking out into the sunshine, the shadows of the place seemed somehow palpable, clinging to the young Jedi and it took a while for Anakin to shake the feelings he had experienced there.

“What is it like?” asked Padmé, as they searched for a suitable spot for their picnic, away from inquisitive noses and persistent insects.  
“What is what like?”  
“To feel things through the Force?”  
“It’s hard to explain,” he said, heading across the meadow towards where the trees grew more profusely, “it’s different depending upon the circumstances.”  
“Try,” urged Padmé, looking at him sweetly, “for me.” When he only smiled she pleaded, “Please, I’m interested.”  
“Oh, alright.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking how best to explain. “When we were in the ruins it was like tiny voices whispering in my head, trying to tell me their stories. And then you get glimpses of feelings, like you might catch a scent on the breeze. It’s not enough to know what it is, but if you concentrate hard enough you can begin to get a sense of it.”  
“You can really tell what other people are feeling?” Padmé was curious.  
“Sometimes. It depends how open they are.”  
“But surely that’s unethical?” pouted Padmé, stooping to pick an interesting looking flower. “I mean I wouldn’t like to think that someone was trying to read my mind.”  
“We don’t read people’s minds,” replied Anakin, “well, we can but that would be unethical. We use our perception to gauge how someone is feeling. It’s like in a diplomatic situation, you want to know how that person will take to your ideas.”  
“What about Jedi mind tricks, when you make people behave how you want,” she continued, remembering some of the more outlandish claims against the Jedi, “some people think that is overly manipulative.”  
“I think it is permissible in some circumstances but a Jedi should not use them to get his own way.”  
“So can you guess what I’m feeling now?” asked Padmé, wanting to test his theory.  
“You’re wondering when I’m going to shut up and we can just enjoy the scenery.”  
“Very perceptive of you,” she danced away from him across the grass.  
“Most people are very honest about their emotions; Jedi save their abilities for when someone is trying to hide something. That is when being perceptive comes in handy.”  
“Some people are more easy to read than others,” said Padmé teasingly, dancing back to join him once again.  
“I assume you put me in that category?” complained Anakin; so much for cultivating an aloof and mysterious Jedi persona.  
“Yes,” she said; but to qualify her comment she added, “since we came here I can hardly tell what you are thinking.”  
“Good.” It was a source of discomfort between him and Obi-wan that he could not easily assume the dispassionate, disinterested state required of a Jedi, but if the perceptive Padmé was finding it hard to gauge his feelings then he must be improving.  
“Oh,” sighed Padmé, wondering if she was going to lose the vision of Anakin she had, “you will become like all those humourless, serious Jedi.”  
Eventually they came to a halt, reaching the welcome shade of a clump of trees. The sun was very bright in the sky and the heat was becoming uncomfortable.   
“Let’s stop here,” suggested Padmé, longing to sit down and rest.   
“Good plan,” agreed Anakin, quickly scanning the area before thankfully putting down the heavy basket and taking out a blanket to spread on the grass.  
After they had eaten, Padmé went for a wander to pick some flowers to take back with her whilst Anakin stayed in the shade; sprawled against a tree, to the casual observer it looked as if he was dozing but in reality he was keeping an eye on the Senator as she meandered through the meadow. Yet, although his mind should have been on security he could not help thinking how her beauty seemed to have increased in the more carefree surroundings. Gone had the elaborate costumes of the Senate and instead some of her hair had become detached from the loose pile of hair at the back of her head, framing her pretty face with dark curls. The excitement in her eyes as she walked through the grass to pick as many flowers as she could manage made them sparkle in a way he had never seen before.  
It was not long before she returned with her hands full, stained green from sap and her overalls covered in petals and bits of grass. “It’s so lovely here,” she said with a sigh, flopping down on the blanket.  
“I could stay here forever,” he agreed.  
Padmé looked into the perfect blue of the sky framed by leafy branches. “I thought you would get bored being in the same place?”  
“Not necessarily. It depends what I was doing.”  
“And who you were with?” she asked with a smile, shifting her attention to the earnest blue of his eyes.  
“Maybe,” he said evasively.  
She was about to ask him if he would consider spending that time in her company when abruptly he froze. “What is it?” she whispered, seeing danger in his expression.  
“Quick! Move!”  
Roughly, he pushed her to her feet and away from the blanket before she knew what was happening. Surprised and affronted, she was about to complain about his brusque treatment when, from nowhere, a laser bolt slammed into the tree next to where they had been only a heartbeat before, splintering the bark so forcefully that the shattered pieces flew high into the air.  
Grabbing his lightsaber, Anakin looked around cautiously. There was no sign of anybody. Here and there were clumps of animals, quietly grazing, the sweet sound of birdsong. The grass waved in the breeze. The clouds idled across the sky.  
“Anakin?” Remembering his uncanny perception, Padmé quickly forgot her complaint. “What is it?”  
“Shush.” He was concentrating on their surroundings, trying to sense their concealed assailant. Reaching out into the ripples of the Force, he grasped at anomalies, the harsh edges of inorganic hardware, the cruel determination of an assassin amongst the soft organic waves of the grass, of the trees… “Above us!”  
Padmé looked up.  
Displaying the lightning reactions that Obi-wan marvelled at, Anakin leapt in front of her, deflecting the stream of laser with his lightsaber. Then their assailant was upon them. Bearing down on them was a humanoid shape, enrobed in protective armour bristling with weapons, the roar of their rocket pack drowning out all other sounds.  
In a moment no longer than half a heartbeat, Anakin sized up their opponent. He quickly came to the conclusion there would be no opportunity for questioning their intentions, it was clear he wanted to kill them.  
The armoured warrior raised his gauntlet.  
“Run!”  
Terrified, Padmé ran from the clump of trees just as a burst of flame from the warrior’s armour incinerated the branches, the fierce light shattering the peaceful meadow. Making an erratic path across the meadow, dodging yet more blaster fire, dodging the frightened, bellowing animals disturbed by the tumult, the two young people finally made it to a small outcrop of rocks tumbled from the cliffs above.  
“Get down!”  
Obediently, Padmé crouched behind the largest rock whilst Anakin defended their position, his lightsaber humming as it sliced deftly through the air, deflecting the deadly bolts of laser straight back to their originator.  
Seeing that his blaster was having little effect against the Jedi’s weapon, the warrior soared up into the sky and disappeared.  
Anakin’s eyes scanned the meadow restlessly. “He’s gone for the moment,” he said to Padmé, “But he’ll be back.”  
Padmé felt helpless and angry, wishing that she had brought a weapon of her own rather than relying on Anakin. “What now?”  
Crouching beside her, Anakin outlined his wish for her to run back to the complex whilst he dealt with the assassin. “Go and get help.”  
“What about you?”  
“I’ll worry about me,” said Anakin hurriedly, steering her towards the homeward path, “just get back as fast as you can.”  
“But Anakin…”  
“Go!” he urged, sensing another disturbance in the air about them, “before he comes back.”  
“Be careful!” With a last glance that conveyed all her fear and concern for him, Padmé ran back towards the compound, making sure to keep close to the towering outcrop of rock that marked the edge of the meadow and hopefully avoid detection.  
However, it was the moment that the assassin had been waiting for and the gamble that Anakin had taken. As soon as Padmé left the shelter of the trees, he suddenly swooped into view but Anakin was ready for him; leaping into the air he came crashing down onto the assassin’s back, knocking him off balance and throwing his trajectory out of line. Spiralling in the air, the armoured warrior fought to remove the padawan gripping his shoulders, his blaster firing indiscriminately, hitting rocks, the ground, the trees. Fortunately hitting everywhere and everything but the Senator, who had almost made it round to the two obelisks that marked the beginning of the path back to the enclave. But then the warrior managed to shake Anakin off, who fell heavily to the ground, landing awkwardly. It left him free to pursue Padmé. Landing expertly in the grass, the assassin ran towards her, taking aim with his blaster. But Padmé, glancing round to see where Anakin was, saw him coming and dived behind one of the obelisks. The following stream of blaster fire dissipated harmlessly against the stone.  
Getting up, Anakin ran as fast as he could across the meadow and as fast as his leg would allow him, pain shooting up from his ankle to his hip.  
Seeing that the warrior was getting close to her hiding place, knowing she could hardly protect herself, Padmé decided to make a dash from the obelisk towards a thicker clump of trees. But she had hardly progressed a few yards when another burst of flame scorched her potential hiding place to blackened, charred stumps. Horrified, she paused uncertain where to run to next. It was enough time for the warrior to push a button on his gauntlet and aim it at her. Just as Padmé made her decision, a thin cord shot out, wrapping around the Senator several times, and, despite her struggles to the contrary, pinned her arms and legs to her sides. “Help!”  
The warrior yanked the cord and Padmé collapsed to the ground with an angry cry. Unable to do anything, she felt herself being dragged along through the grass as her captor started to reel her in.  
Seething with rage, Padmé’s desperate cry was enough to galvanise Anakin into action. Bounding across the meadow, he swung his lightsaber towards the warrior in a wide arc, striking his rocket-pack dead on centre. But instead of disabling it, he must have hit the mechanics, watching helplessly as the warrior’s malfunctioning armour shot him high into the air. Anakin could only do his best to keep up with the warrior’s tortuous path across the meadow, as poor Padmé was dragged along with him. All the time the warrior was trying to get free of his now anti-productive rocket-pack but he was struggling and there was little he could do to stop its wild course. Finally Anakin was close enough to take a swing at the cord that extended from the warrior’s gauntlet. The lightsaber cut through effortlessly and Padmé immediately fell to the ground. But he had reckoned without the determination of the assassin and was forced to dive out the way as another round of laser was fired in his direction, scorching through his tunic. Crashing to the ground, Anakin lay panting, trying to get his breath back. he fall had winded him and he also felt pain where the laser had grazed his ribs. But he knew it was not over yet. Cautiously he lifted his head; the warrior was no longer nearby. His crazy flight had taken him far across the meadow, leaving Anakin a chance to crawl over to where Padmé lay, immobile and silent.  
“Padmé?” Kneeling beside her, he called her name softly but there was no reply. Touching her face gently he saw the beginnings of bruises, a cut on her forehead oozing blood, her face as pale as death. Gathering her in his arms, he carried her away from the meadow, feeling the blood-heat rising in his head as his anger towards the would-be assassin gained further momentum.

Across the meadow, bounty hunter Jango Fett had finally managed to detach his rocket-pack and was lying on the ground where he had fallen. Grunting with the effort, and the heat generated by his faulty armour, he climbed to his feet, scanning the meadow for the Senator. It seemed that he had landed somewhat far away. Hopefully his job was almost over, it had been more of a struggle than he had bargained for. All because of a Jedi; only once had he agreed to take a contract for the life of a Jedi and that had been relatively simple. A surprise attack that had dealt with the Jedi quickly and efficiently. That was his hallmark; murder swift and without fuss. Not prolonged and messy like this.  
That was strange.  
He couldn’t see anything lying in the meadow although he was certain that the Senator had fallen on the far side. Grabbing his blaster, he started to jog over to where he assumed she had fallen when he heard a shout from the left. Spinning in its direction he was confronted with the furious image of the young Jedi whom he thought had been knocked out, racing towards him, lightsaber aloft. Even the bounty hunter could see that his eyes were imbued with something close to madness. Steadily, he fired shot after shot at the advancing Jedi but effortlessly the Jedi deflected them, all the while heading towards him with almost unnatural speed. Keeping his position until the last possible minute, Jango leapt aside, but the Jedi seemed to know precisely what he was about to do and he was able to keep with him.  
For the first time in his life, Jango Fett experienced real fear. It was too late to do anything; just before he could react the Jedi had reached him and as he levelled his blaster at the Jedi’s chest he heard the hum of the lightsaber, magnified by the helmet’s aural receptors, as it sliced towards his neck in a wide sweep. His last thought, just before his head was cut clean from his neck, was of his son, Boba, hoping that he had warned him enough against getting entangled with a Jedi. Then the helmet was bouncing across the grass, trailing blood in a thin stream. The huge body stood frozen for a moment as if stunned by the attack; then, with a sigh, it too crumpled and folded, landing with a crash amongst a patch of bright flowers.  
Breathing heavily, Anakin stepped back, his jerkin splattered with the bounty hunter’s fluids. It was as if he was coming out of a trance. Seeing the corpse brought no grim sense of satisfaction, only emptiness. If Padmé were gone it would have all been in vain. He went over to where the Senator lay cushioned by nature; having lost her hat, her dark hair lay free, mingling with the grass and flowers, her lips gently parted as if asleep. Leaning down, he cradled her in his arms, holding her close, willing life into her. As her head flopped against his neck the warmth of her breath against his skin finally brought him some relief; she was alive.

“Padmé?” He could see her eyelids were fluttering.  
“Anakin?” she murmured, hearing his voice and opening her eyes a little, “where am I?”  
“You’re back at the compound.”  
“I am?” The last she remembered was being in the meadow. Trying to sit up, Padmé felt dizzy, her surroundings difficult to grasp as they swam in and out of focus.  
“Take it easy.” Getting up from his chair next to the bed, Anakin helped her to sit up. “How are you feeling?”  
“My head hurts,” she said, finally recognising that she was in her bedchamber. The window was open and a light breeze brought in with it scents from the gardens outside. Anakin was looking at her with concern. “What happened to…?”  
“It doesn’t matter for the moment,” he insisted, taking her hand in his protectively, “you need to rest.”  
Rest was the last thing on her mind, “Please Anakin, tell me what happened. I’m alright.”  
Eventually he said, “The assassin is gone, my lady.”  
“Gone?”  
“Yes. He wasn’t in the mood to surrender.” And I was not in the mood to let him.  
“Did you find out who he was?”  
“Not yet, my lady, but his armour suggested that he was connected to the Fetts.” He still felt exhausted and uncertain after his experiences, hoping she was not going to ask too many questions. “I went back with Phex and we found the assassin's speeder, which might help us to trace who he was.”  
“Are you going to tell the Council?” There was something wrong with her hearing, even Anakin’s soft voice sounded needlessly loud.  
“I’ll have to,” he nodded, “our safety has been compromised.” There were so many questions in his own mind about how they could have been found here.  
The reality of what had happened in the meadow was starting to sink in. “You saved my life.”  
“I was doing my duty,” Anakin tried to brush it off, sensing a change in her attitude towards him but assuming that her emotions were all over the place because of the danger she had been in. “It was nothing.”  
“It wasn’t nothing,” insisted Padmé, realising that he was still holding her hand. “You did a very brave thing.”  
“It wasn’t bravery,” protested Anakin, still feeling that his outburst of violence, whilst effective, was not something he would want anyone to admire. “Anyone would have done the same to protect you, my lady.”  
“Anyone?” She couldn’t help feeling a little deflated by his attempt to make events seem ordinary.  
“Yes, anyone.”  
Feeling how close he was to her, perched on the edge of her bed, recklessness made her draw still closer to him, the relief of their escape (coupled with the effects of the medicine) lowering her defences and enticing her to give free reign to the desires that she felt emanating from her impatient heart. Closing her eyes, she relied on instinct to locate his lips with hers, feeling his surprised, yet passionate response as their mouths pressed together. For a moment nothing else seemed to matter before she opened her eyes again to find herself staring into two orbs of blue intensity. Frightened by the depth of emotion she saw within them, Padmé blushed profusely and drew back.  
If Anakin was bewildered by her actions, he did not show it. Instead he squeezed her hand in a friendly manner, “You need to rest, my lady, no more excitement for today.”  
“Yes, no more excitement,” she murmured, moving further away from him and pulling the covers up to her neck. It had been a moment of weakness for the young Senator and only Anakin’s calm response gave her the hope that it might be ignored, if not forgotten.  
Leaving her to rest, Anakin went out into the courtyard, seeking peace from the turmoil of his emotions. Not only did he have to wrestle with the emotions stirred within him by the assassin’s attack, it was clear from the Senator’s actions that he had perceived her feelings towards him correctly. The difficulty of the situation was that he already felt the same way about her: it had taken the threat of her death for him to admit this to himself, but it seemed clear, if he was to be logical about it, that the close proximity between them was only helping them to fall further in love. It was not a situation he knew how to deal with.

“Do you think whoever is behind these assassin attempts will know of your location?” The Jedi Council believed that they had taken every step necessary to ensure that Padmé would be safe; only they and her most trusted entourage had known that Dantooine was her destination. It had been a great shock to them to hear of the failed assassination attempt.  
“Yes, Master Windu,” said Anakin’s hologram, projected into the Council Chamber. “The speeder that we found in the meadow indicated that several encoded messages about the Senator’s location had been sent to the assassin in the days preceding the attack. I do not recognise the codes used but I will have them sent over to Coruscant as soon as possible.”  
“Good thinking,” said Master Windu, “they may provide us with more clues as to who is so determined to end the life of the Senator. Obi-wan is already on his way to Kamino to investigate its connection with the Fett.”  
“This assassin may well have been a Fett,” said Anakin’s hologram, “I recognised the armour from the bounty hunter we apprehended on Coruscant.”  
The Council looked at each other in dismay. “How could the Senator’s location have been leaked to the Fetts?” asked Ki ali Mundi.  
“I do not know,” said Anakin’s hologram, “the only communication we received after we left Coruscant was from Queen Jamilla of Naboo, which I was immediately unhappy about. The assassin may have picked up that communication or the leak may have come from Coruscant. Whatever the reason, we are no longer safe here.”  
“Alive is this bounty hunter?” asked Ki adi mundi, sensing that there was something not quite right in the mind of the young padawan. Even across the distance created by the vast reaches of space between them, he could sense the disorder chewing up the Force.  
“No, Master.” Back on Dantooine, Anakin maintained his business-like manner, oblivious to the chaos he generated in the Force. “He was a ruthless and determined opponent. In order to save the Senator’s life I was compelled to end his, otherwise he would have ended ours.”  
“A lost chance this was,” commented Plo Keen. “Every time we get close to a breakthrough, assassins have a habit of dying.”  
“It’s to be expected,” shrugged Mace, “bounty hunters are driven to complete their contracts by any means necessary. It is better that the Senator is alive.”  
“We can only hope,” said Adi Gallia, “that these messages you speak of Anakin can help us to trace whoever they made this contract with.”  
“I hope so, Master Gallia.”  
“Until then, Anakin,” continued Master Windu, “we are leaving it up to you to take the Senator somewhere you believe she will be safe.”   
“Use your judgement,” added Saesee Tinn sombrely, “we think it best if you were to travel anonymously and without informing us of your destination. Send the Senator’s entourage back to Coruscant for the time being, she will have to manage without them.”  
“Yes Master. May the Force be with you.”  
“May the Force be with you, Anakin,” smiled Mace, settling back into his chair.  
The hologram faded away, leaving the Council with many questions, and not so many answers.  
“Are you certain that we should have allowed young Skywalker free reign to choose his next destination?” asked Plo Keen.  
“Yes,” said Mace Windu firmly. “In that way we know the fault cannot lie with any leak on Coruscant. We believed we were the only ones who knew the destination of the Senator, yet still her enemies have discovered her whereabouts.”  
“A test this is of young Anakin’s abilities, don’t forget that,” Hedi Junnan pointed out.  
“That is all well and good,” said Plo Koon, who was reserving judgment on Anakin for the time being, “but is it not reckless to place the Senator’s life in his hands in this manner? He is still in the process of training and, as we know, does not always listen well to wise counsel.”  
Some of the Council murmured in agreement and Master Windu felt slightly defensive; they had debated for a long time over where to send the Senator but still the matter came up time and time again that what they had felt to be known to only themselves and Padmé’s trusted entourage had been leaked. “Maybe but I believe it is best that only Skywalker and Senator Amidala know where they are headed. I cannot imagine that the Senator has designed these attacks upon herself.”   
“That is true, my friend,” Plo Koon backed down, “forgive me for my lack of faith.”   
“The Senator’s entourage will need to be questioned when they return here in case one of them is in the service of others.”  
“A good idea,” remarked Adi Gallia, others on the Council nodding their assent, “it may well be that they are the source of the leak.”  
“Until then we must hope that Obi-wan can enlighten us as to the meaning of the Fett’s involvement in this sordid business,” said Master Windu before dismissing the Council.

That evening, feeling settled after a long rest, Padmé went outside to watch the sunset. Standing in the centre of the courtyard, she was soon able to lose herself in the magnificence of the golden hues radiating out across the dome above, lit by the large and shining moon. It was a reminder that her troubles were only small problems amongst an entire galaxy of problems, a great leveller for the young idealist. Yet, it was not long before her thoughts wandered back to her relationship with Anakin. She could no longer deny that she was falling in love with him; at first she had believed that the predicament she was in had made her more susceptible but when she had kissed him, at that moment she had known that her feelings for him ran much deeper. After everything she had said to her handmaidens, the realisation that she was growing more susceptible to the young man’s charms was troubling.  
As the last dying rays of the sun vanished behind the distant cliffs, it rapidly grew cold and Padmé found herself shivering. Going back inside to find a blanket or wrap to cover her shoulders, she found Anakin in the communal sitting room, setting a fire in the grate. She had not seen him since he had gone to report to the Council and immediately felt awkward, her words more formal than she intended. “Good evening, Anakin. Did you speak with the Council?”  
“I did. They have decided that we should decide our next destination ourselves, to prevent any more leaks.” After speaking with the Council, Anakin had spent the rest of the afternoon in meditation, hoping for some inspiration as to their next destination. It was still an issue he was grappling with. “I’m afraid though you are going to have to send your entourage back to Coruscant.”  
“I see.” It was to be expected but presented a further predicament in that it would mean being completely alone with Anakin.  
Sensing her discomfort with the plan, he changed the subject. “Are you feeling better, my lady?”  
“Yes, thank you.” Picking up her shawl from the couch, Padmé managed a smile. “It’s a lovely evening, you missed the sunset.”  
“I am sure it was beautiful,” replied the young man, turning back to the fire which was resisting his attempts to light properly.  
Taking a seat close to the fire to watch him, she continued, “It’s a lovely clear night, you can see the stars.”  
“I’d rather stay here in here by the fire where it’s warm.” Finally making some headway, he gestured to the seat next to her, “Do you mind if I sit down?”  
“No, not at all.” For a while they sat in companionable silence, their eyes fixed on the flames and hissing logs.  
Anakin’s eyes eventually wandered over to the window, “You can see the stars well enough from here,” he pointed out.  
“On Naboo they say that there are stories behind the stars,” said Padmé to make conversation, warming up and relaxing a little.  
“They say the same on Tatooine,” he replied, “I remember when I was younger I was determined that I would be the first person to see them all.”  
“Maybe you will.” After all, a Jedi’s life could take them all over the Galaxy.  
“Do you think there is anything beyond the stars?” he asked her.  
“I think so,” nodded Padmé sagely.  
“What?”  
“More stars.” They both laughed then which released some of the tension.  
“Have you thought about where we’re going next?” she asked him, having no idea herself. Already she had discounted Naboo, feeling that the strain it would place on her family would be too much for her to bear.  
“Yes,” he admitted, “I have an idea but I am not sure if it’s safe enough.”  
“Where were you thinking?”  
“Somewhere in the Outer Rim, but if it’s alright with you, my lady, I will sleep on it and see if inspiration hits me in the morning.” There were many dangers associated with going into the wilder, less law-abiding areas of the Galaxy, even if it meant there would be less chance of them being discovered.  
“I can’t wait to leave,” Fiddling with her shawl, Padmé felt nervous enough remaining there for the night. “I don’t feel very safe here anymore.”  
“Even with its lovely sunsets?”  
“Yes.”  
He sensed the anxiety in her mood, “Do not worry, my lady, I will keep watch through the night.”  
“Don’t you need some sleep?” Surely the day’s events must have taken their toll on him as much as her.  
“Not really.” He looked away. “Sleep is not necessarily a good thing.”  
“What do you mean? Are you having nightmares?”  
“A Jedi does not have nightmares,” he said defensively, getting up and rummaging around the burning logs with the poker.  
“But you do.”  
He had not wanted to tell her but after all that had happened that day he could not keep another secret. “I keep having the same dream.”  
“Some dreams can be inspiring,” she tried to be positive, hearing the melancholy note in his voice.  
“Some dreams can be a torment.” It was true that he did have positive dreams, after all his saving of Padmé from the fire seemed to predict the events of the day. However, it was always the traumatic visions, the ones which reeked of death and pain, which lingered more clearly in his memory.  
“What is the dream about?”  
“My mother.”  
“Your mother?”  
As soon as he said it, images crowded into his mind, images he had wanted to forget. “It’s always the same dream, she’s in terrible pain, she’s suffering and needs my help. But I cannot help her in time.” He sighed heavily, “I cannot help but think that something terrible is going happen to her.”  
“Do your dreams still come true?” she asked him. Years ago she remembered asking him the same thing on Tattooine but it was different then, now he was a Jedi and she assumed that Anakin would have found a way to cope with his visions of the future.  
“Some of them, but not all of them.”  
“I’m sure Shmi will be fine,” she said kindly, “after all she has Cleeg and he won’t let anything bad happen to her.”  
“That’s true.” Wishing to change the subject, he decided to broach an issue which had been worrying him ever since the decision made by the Council. “I am not sure how to ask this, my lady,” he began, as diplomatically as possible, “but are you going to be comfortable with it just being us two from now on?”  
As the dazzling blue of his eyes caught her own, she found herself saying, “Yes, of course. Why not?”  
“My lady, what I mean to ask is, when you kissed me earlier…”  
“It was a mistake,” she forced herself to say, still embarrassed.  
“A mistake?” He could tell that she was hiding her true feelings but he did not blame her.  
“I was feeling confused after what happened,” Padmé tried to explain, hoping he was not offended by her attempt to distance herself from her feelings for him, “I needed some comfort.”  
“That’s a relief,” said Anakin quietly, trying to recover some of his rapidly diminishing confidence, “I was beginning to think you felt the same way as I do.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“What I mean is,” replied the young man, unsure how to voice his feelings in a way that would not intimidate her, “the way I feel about you… I think I’m… well all day I have been haunted by that kiss! I almost wish you hadn’t.”  
Faced with his honesty, all her composure fell away and for a moment her emotions were naked and vulnerable. “I wish I hadn’t but I couldn’t help it. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for such a long time.”  
“Then you do feel the same!” He looked at her with longing.  
“It doesn’t matter what we feel,” she said resignedly, “we can’t be together.”  
“Today, in the meadow. I thought I’d lost you,” said Anakin, determined to get his feelings out into the open even if it meant regretting it for the rest of his life. “It was agony. I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t breathe. The thought that I might lose you…” he stopped, remembering the anger and passion it had inspired within him, not wanting those emotions to resurface. “Even if we cannot be together, I need you to know how I feel…”  
“Please don’t.” She felt her heart fluttering in her chest, not knowing what to say in response and uncertain of his intentions. Was he declaring his love for her? Or was he merely confirming that she, whilst special to him, was out of reach? “Whatever we feel is irrelevant,” she said eventually, not daring to look at him, “we couldn’t act on our feelings, even if we wanted to. Too much is at stake.”  
“If you would prefer it,” he said, prepared to be magnanimous, “I can ask the Council to replace me with another-”  
“Why?” despite herself, she could help but reply with anguish. “We can still be friends and now… now that things are out in the open, I feel much happier, I don’t have to hide my feelings from you.” But I don’t have to act on them either, she added to herself.  
He could not help teasing her then, “But you have to promise not to kiss me again.”  
“It’s not funny, Anakin.” Padmé rose from the seat in a sudden passion, pacing in front of the fire. “To be together would mean we have to throw away everything we’ve worked hard for. You are a Jedi, sworn to devote yourself to the Order; I am a Senator who must put the needs of my people before my own selfish desires. Even if we could ignore these demands, we would have to keep it a secret, and it would plunge our lives into chaos just as others need us the most. Could you live in that way, Anakin? I know I couldn’t! The Republic is heading towards war and we cannot think about falling in love!”  
It was then that he realised she was trying to convince herself of the need to forget about her feelings for him because of the circumstances they found themselves in rather than rejecting him outright. Instantly he felt better. “The Republic won’t collapse because two people have fallen in love,” he said flippantly, “you have been reading too much romantic fiction.”  
As he should have expected, his remark only annoyed her. “It’s not a game, Anakin. If anyone found out we’d be forced apart… Then we would lose each other forever.” She challenged him, “Would you want that?”  
“Of course not. Look, we’re both tired,” said Anakin, hoping to diffuse the situation, “Come and sit back down, I’ll ask Corday to make us something calming to drink.”  
Annoyed by his calm exterior, however Padmé did as she was told and sat down again on the couch.  
“We’ve nothing wrong,” said Anakin gently, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. “But I think it’s better we keep this conversation between us two.”  
“I know,” she said quickly - but then why did she feel so miserable?

That night Padmé cried herself to sleep, feeling terrible as her romantic dreams of falling in love with the handsome Jedi were cruelly dashed by circumstances. Yet still she could not countenance giving into her passion, feeling that if they started down that path it could only lead to one of two conclusions, both of them abhorrent to her. She wanted to be in love, with someone whose love was all hers, and Anakin could not have that. He loved but could not love. But as soon as she convinced herself that it was the right thing to do, she started crying again because he had seen into her heart and knew what lay there. Ever since they had been thrown together again she had irresistibly begun to fall in love with him. He was kind, funny, faithful, and devoted to her. She knew he would be true. She could think of no one else who was as honest as he. But as much as she wanted to love him, she could not have the burden of his destiny on her conscience.

The fire had sunk low in the grate, and the embers glowing fainter and fainter. Hours of reflection had convinced Anakin that they had done the right thing, it was futile to think that they could be together considering the different paths their lives would take. But neither could they return to how things had been before; their hearts were out in the open, as vulnerable and imperfect as they were. He knew it would change their relationship, there would always be a threat hanging over them. That, eventually, one of them might give into those passions and convince the other that to give into their feelings was the right thing to do.


	7. Obi-wan Turns Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan arrives at Tipoca City on Kamino and has an interesting meeting with the Fetts. The missing Jedi Master Syfo Dyas has, he finds out, ordered a new army for the Republic, built of humans and other species grown in accelerated birthing programmes and through cloning. Obi-wan is even more surprised when he meets a restored General Grievous, who it turns out, was 'made' on Kamino.
> 
> Padme and Anakin prepare to make the journey to Tatooine after Anakin dreams about his mother needing his help.

“That’s it R4.”  
Finally, Obi-wan had reached Kamino after a gruelling journey from the Core. From this distance it looked grey and forbidding, huge swathes of cloud moving across its surface. Setting the co-ordinates, he checked his console and decided that it would be best to land on the east side of the planet. Here the lifeform readings were way off the scale. Clearing the atmosphere, Obi-wan’s ship punctured the clouds. Although Heyke had prepared him for it he was still surprised to see that the entire surface of the planet was water; racked by storms and thunderstorms but it was water all the same. Where were all the settlements? All he could see were huge expanses of oceans; maybe it had only been a legend after all. But then he saw it, coming up ahead a strange platform looming out of the raging waves; upon this platform was built a series of towering edifices, pure white and stretching for miles. The floating world…  
“That looks like a good place to land,” said Obi-wan to his droid, “bring her down carefully in this rain.”  
Thanks to the skill of R4, and a little help from Obi-wan, the ship came down tightly onto the rain-soaked landing platform. Wrapping his cloak around him, Obi-wan clambered out of his ship not quite prepared for the driving winds that almost swept him into the waves that dashed against the platform. They were so fierce they swept half the ocean across the platform itself until the Jedi was sloshing about in water and wishing he had come anywhere but this miserable planet. Ahead of him, Obi-wan could see a door leading into the complex. As he approached, unnervingly the door opened sending an intense shaft of brilliant bright light onto the platform. Desperate to get out of the rain, Obi-wan didn’t hesitate going inside; once inside the gleaming white corridor he wiped the rain from his face, using his cloak. Thus done, he headed over to a desk at the end of the corridor where a curious being was sat typing on a touchscreen set into the surface of the desk.  
“Hello there,” he said cheerfully.  
The being - a creamy faced alien with an enormous neck - regarded him placidly from huge, almond shaped eyes. “Welcome to Tipoca City, Master Jedi.”  
Not feeling any malice, Obi-wan took his hand from his lightsaber. “I was wondering if you could help me.”  
“We do so enjoy having visitors here,” said the faintly luminous being, “but I hope you don’t mind if I first enquire as to your business here?”  
Unable to concoct a credible story on the spot, Obi-wan instead settled for the truth, “I was told I could find the Fetts here.”  
“Indeed.” Reaching into the desk, the being took out a holopad and handed it over to the Jedi. “Their office is located in the East sector, corridor sixty. Please take a guide to the city with our compliments but information points are stationed at convenient intervals if you need further assistance.”  
“Thank you.”  
“The entrance to the City is that way,” the being gestured towards a huge set of doors at the far end of the corridor. “I do hope you enjoy your stay.”  
“I am sure I will.” He remembered his ship, “Am I alright to leave…?”  
“There is no problem in leaving your ship outside,” said the being benevolently, “we will ensure no harm comes to it whilst you are here.”  
“Thank you very much.”  
As he approached the huge set of doors, they swished open automatically. Like everything else in the complex, the movement was incredibly quiet and smooth.  
Stepping into the lobby, Obi-wan found himself in a huge elevator.  
“Please state your destination,” said a pleasant voice.  
“East sector, corridor sixty,” said Obi-wan loudly to the walls.  
“Thank you. Please hold tight.” 

When Obi-wan emerged from the elevator, he found himself in a wide hallway. At the centre was a rectangular pool with tiny fountains shooting light droplets into the air. Around the hallway beings were milling about, chatting in groups or going about their business. Obi-wan saw many different species, many humans, but few of the type that had greeted him downstairs. Some curious glances were issued his way but there was no sense of menace. In fact, the atmosphere of the City was calm, peculiarly calm. It raised alarm bells in the Jedi’s mind and he resolved to keep his wits about him and not allow himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. If there were so many beings here where were all the ships? Something was not right.  
He wandered through bright corridors, lined with shops, meeting places, canteens, everything necessary for a vibrant and lively city. They were clearly marked and it did not take him long to find corridor sixty. Turning the corner he walked down until he came to what he supposed was the office of the Fetts. It looked unassuming from the outside; in fact he found himself considering that he had never even thought what a bounty hunter’s office looked like. He had never even considered that a bounty hunter would have an office. It seemed so outside his traditional conception of the bounty hunter as a lone outsider. However he swallowed his misgivings and went over to the entrance. After going through an archway, Obi-wan found himself in a large, white office containing a desk and a couple of chairs, which themselves seemed to be made out of pure light. Behind the desk sat an attractive, older lady, admonishing a small dark haired boy, “Now remember what your father told you before he left, no…”  
Obi-wan cleared his throat very loudly.  
The woman glanced up, “Oh…?” Her disinterested expression suddenly changed to one of intense enthusiasm, “Oh my goodness.”  
“Hello,” said Obi-wan amiably, wondering why his presence had created such a stir.  
“It’s wonderful to finally meet you,” said the lady warmly, getting up from the desk and hurrying round to meet him, shooing the small boy away first, “after all these years.”  
“Why thank you,” Obi-wan decided it was in his best interests to play along.  
“I’ve always wanted to meet a Jedi,” she gushed, pumping his hand earnestly, “please take a seat. You should have told us you were coming.”  
As she fussed around him, Obi-wan chuckled, “Well I like to surprise people.”  
“You certainly do,” she laughed a little too eagerly at his poor joke, “can I get you something to drink?”  
“Yes please.” He realised how parched he was.  
As she went to get him a beverage, Obi-wan peered over to the desk but he saw nothing of interest upon it. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned around. Coming under the archway was one of the tall aliens he had assumed were the Bwell-we. Dressed in long navy robes, this being had skin of a grey tone and large liquid black eyes that swept placidly across the room. They radiated magnificence and Obi-wan felt the need to stand up.  
“Good day,” remarked the being pleasantly, “I do hope I am not disturbing you.”  
“Not at all.”  
The lady returned with Obi-wan’s drink and started when she saw who had entered, “My goodness, Lama Su.” She curtseyed, “To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit?”  
“I was told that you had received a very special guest, Lula Fett,” replied the being in dulcet tones, “A Jedi no less.”  
“Not just any Jedi,” remarked Lula Fett, gesturing towards the bemused Obi-wan, “but Jedi Master Syfo Dyas.”  
“At long last we meet,” the being bowed. “I am Lama Su, administrator of Tipoca City. I am very honoured to be in your presence.”  
“The pleasure is all mine.” So that’s who they thought he was! Knowing he could not possibly dissemble, Obi-wan continued, “However, I regret that there has been a mistake, I am not Master Syfo-Dyas. Unfortunately he died over fifteen years ago.”  
“That is a surprise and a terrible shame,” replied Lama Su, actually showing very little surprise in her features or her voice, “and you are…?”  
“My name is Obi-wan Kenobi.”  
“Then we are pleased, Master Kenobi, to make your acquaintance. We did wonder why we had not heard from the Jedi Council in such a long time; we hope that you will be replacing Master Syfo-Dyas as the Council’s representative here?”  
“Why, yes,” said Obi-wan, wondering what Syfo-Dyas had been up to on Kamino. It seemed that the connection went much further than the Fetts.  
“You will be pleased to know that we have almost completed your order so your arrival is very timely. I imagine you will want to see how it is progressing?”  
“Yes, that was the reason for my visit,” said Obi-wan, as assertively as he could manage. “The Council are only sorry they could not send a representative here sooner but with the growing trouble in the Republic it has been difficult to leave Coruscant.”  
“There is trouble in the Republic?” Lama Su’s huge eyes registered surprise; “Forgive our ignorance, Master Kenoboi, but news of the Republic reaches us very rarely here.”  
“I see.” Obi-wan wondered where all the inhabitants had come from.  
“Indeed, we have so very few visitors here to Tipoca City that we were pleased when we started to work with the Council. Many more have come since then.”  
“And many of them have since stayed,” smiled Lula Fett, who had otherwise been watching proceedings with interest. “It’s so peaceful here that very few who come here have wanted to leave.”  
Although there was nothing inherently sinister in her words Obi-wan remembered the bad feeling he had when entering the City. Perhaps that was why; to all intents and purposes people were confined here. It was a luxurious prison but a prison all the same.  
“Since you have come all this way, Master Kenobi, I would very much like to take you on a tour of our city and show you how far your order has progressed. Will you have the time to do that?”  
Seeing that his investigation of the Fetts would have to be superseded by this new information, Obi-wan nodded. “Yes I would like that very much.”

It had been raining but the smooth stone of the courtyard lay protected beneath its dome, soft in the morning’s wan light. Looking out of the window was a mournful Padmé: she had had lain awake most of the night, still feeling hollow. She had thought about the situation with Anakin for most of the night but she knew that whilst they were in hiding together there was no easy solution to their predicament. A problem inherent from the time they had arrived was that they were together everyday; perhaps it was no surprise that they had drawn closer together than was beneficial. Yet she could not pretend a distance she did not feel and her abhorrence of secrets prevented her from even entertaining the notion. Yet now that everything was out in the open she felt hope that they could begin to rebuild their relationship.  
Outside in the courtyard she could see Anakin, dressed casually in a light coloured jerkin and loose pants. He was stood to one side of the courtyard, his feet naked against the stone, his arms locked against his sides. He had been in that position for as long as she had watched him, deep in concentration. Suddenly, his arms began to move gracefully upwards as he assumed a new position; suddenly conscious that she was watching him, Padmé tore herself away from the window and started to prepare herself for the long journey ahead.

“Did you sleep well, my lady?”  
Consumed by packing, Padmé had not heard Anakin approaching her room or appearing at the open door. “Not really,” she said honestly, looking at him shyly. Without the heavy Jedi robes he looked different, more relaxed somehow, although the dark circles under his eyes revealed that he too, had had a difficult night. “Have you decided where we are going yet?”  
In answer, Anakin came into the room and closed the door. “My lady, I have a huge favour to ask. I understand if you think it is too risky but I would like us to travel to Tatooine.”  
“Tatooine?” It was not that much of a surprise to her: after his comments last night she knew he wanted to see his mother was safe and well as much as he wanted to protect her.  
“We do not have to stay long,” continued Anakin, seeing that she had not vetoed the idea immediately, “only enough time to make sure that everything is well there. We will save money on accommodation at least.” From now on, he told her, it was his plan that they would travel as inter-planetary backpackers, not staying anywhere for more than a couple of days until it was safe to return to Coruscant. In that way they should avoid unwanted attention and becoming embroiled in local problems. It would be more expensive but he hoped that Padmé would have access to credit beside the amount given to him by the Jedi Council for necessary expenses.  
“Did you dream about your mother again?” she asked, sensing there was something he was not telling her.  
There was a pause, then he said quietly, “I think she’s going to die.”  
“Die?” That was more than she expected; shocked, she sat down on the bed, her packing forgotten.  
“In my dream she was in great pain,” his voice was barely audible, “she was crying out for me to help her. Then her eyes started to close and I knew she was gone. It was so real, Padmé, I felt her pain as clearly as I see you now.” Already he could see her eyes were filled with understanding, “I must go to her, to see that she’s okay.”  
“Then we should go.” Although she didn’t entirely understand why the Force would subject him to such anguish, she felt terrible to think that poor lovely, patient Shmi could be in danger.  
“You are certain about this? You will put your trust in me?” He looked at her openly.  
Padmé nodded, “If nowhere if safe, I can see no harm in paying a visit to Tatooine.”  
“Thank you, my lady,” he said simply, his blue eyes as turbulent as the skies above them. For relief, he looked over to her bulging suitcase, “Are you almost ready to leave?”  
“Yes,” she only had a small pile of things left to put into the case.  
“I’ll go and check if the ship is ready for us.” It was then that he knew even if she couldn’t be with him exactly how he wanted, or even as she wanted, Padmé was more than willing to love him as a friend. The trouble was, he loved her all the more for it.

“These are our training facilities, Master Kenobi, where we teach our recruits the art of warfare.”  
Obi-wan was standing in-between Lama Su and Lula Fett, looking down through large glass windows into an enormous training room. Young men and women were taking part in a number of activities; sword fighting, shooting and hand to hand combat. From the administrator, he had learnt that the army had been requested for the Republic by Master Syfo-Dyas, apparently acting on the orders of the Jedi Council. They had evidence to support the claim, which Obi-wan had seen. Considering the heated discussions in the Senate about the Military Creation Act, it troubled Obi-wan that a decision already seemed to have been made long ago. “Where do your recruits come from?”  
“Oh, we get them in a number of ways,” said Lama Su loftily. “We have accelerated birthing programmes here and we do use clones, although they have been less successful. They are obedient and able to make decisions but we found that most minds are more unnerved by an army that is composed of real, independently thinking creatures, not copies of each other.”  
“And you have many of these facilities?”  
“Over fifty thousand,” said Lama Su proudly, “spread across the planet. Here we concentrate on humanoid training but we have recruits of all species; for specialist training we find that different species have different talents. And we are of course renowned for our genetic splicing techniques.”  
Although the idea of clones and genetic splicing was distasteful to him, Obi-wan merely nodded politely. “How many units are ready?”  
“I can very proudly tell you that two hundred thousand units are ready, with another twenty thousand on the way.”  
“I see.”  
“In terms of weapons technology, we have designed and completed fifty thousand ships, I think you will like the modifications that we have made, and our team of scientists have been working day and night to realise your needs.”  
“That is very good news,” replied Obi-wan, becoming more and more concerned about the sheer scale of the operations. Whoever had agreed them obviously wanted to create an intimidating army for the Republic or expected war to break out on an unprecedented scale.  
They came to a stop on a balcony that looked over a huge plaza. Obi-wan gasped in amazement at the sight below him; hundreds of thousands of troops marching together in formation, dressed in identical white armour, their identity hidden beneath the faceless helmets.  
“Do you not think they are magnificent?” asked the Administrator, obviously basking in the glory of their creation.  
Obi-wan felt a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, wondering how this army could have gone completely unnoticed for so long. “Yes, yes they are.”  
“My cousin Jango Fett personally oversaw the design of the uniforms,” said Lula proudly to the Jedi; “he based it on an older Mandalorian combat suit.”  
Over the course of the day, Obi-wan was shown more training facilities, the factories were they were making the ships and the weapons, the research facility where even more advanced technology was being developed in readiness. This interested Obi-wan the most, as he was amazed at the number of scientists the Bwell-we had collected together in the complex. They welcomed him pleasantly, eager to show their designs to an interested party. As the Bwell-we explained to Obi-wan, the scientists had been working in isolation for many years; they had been treated well but without any visitors it was only on meeting Obi-wan that their work began to have clear purpose.  
As Lama Su and Lula Fett accompanied him back to the main complex, the Administrator asked him, “Please can you confirm for us that this army still has the support of the Senate? Master Syfo-Dyas insisted to us that it would not present a difficulty but because of the long absence of communication with the Council, we were beginning to grow concerned that the Republic no longer has any need for an army.”  
It still confused Obi-wan as to how the Council could have pre-empted the current situation in the Republic. “Lama Su, I will be frank. For many years there has been disagreement in the Senate over the creation of the army and as yet no firm agreement has been reached. However, I can assure you that the Jedi Council will be very interested to see what has been happening here on Kamino.”  
“We still have the list of Senators whom Syfo-Dyas intimated would give their support,” remarked Lama Su thoughtfully, “maybe that would be of use to you?”  
Obi-wan thought it would and when they arrived back at the office, Lama Su asked Lula Fett to obtain a copy of the list for him. This was accomplished quickly through the city’s network.  
“Thank you very much.” Studying the list quickly, Obi-wan saw more than a few names that he recognised. “This will prove very helpful.”  
“I expect you are very tired, Master Kenobi, after everything you have seen today,” soothed Lama Su in her tranquil manner. “We would be most honoured if you would stay here tonight, and we can show you more of the complex tomorrow.”  
“Thank you, I would like that very much.”  
“Then I will bid you good night, Master Kenobi.”  
An aide of the Administrator, Taun We, showed him to his quarters, a white capsule containing a bed and a table, set out with more delicious looking food. Despite his hunger, Obi-wan ignored it. Like everything here, its perfection concerned him. Checking the room for any surveillance equipment, Obi-wan took out his comlink and spoke hurriedly into it.   
“R4, R4?”  
A disgruntled bleep indicated that R4 was receiving him.   
“Look, I’m sorry I forgot about you, I know it’s raining. Please can you make the connection to Coruscant?” He spoke the code quietly, still not entirely trusting the benevolent demeanour of his hosts.  
The connection was made quickly to the Jedi Council, although the signal was weak and Obi-wan’s image was subject to consistent interference. The Council had to concentrate hard to catch the gist of Obi-wan’s message; “I have made contact with the Buell-we on Kamino… it seems Master Syfo-Dyas ordered an army for the Republic before his death… supported by the Jedi Council… I have not spoken yet to the Fetts but… been involved with the army’s creation.”  
“The Council has never sanctioned the creation of an army for the Republic” said Mace Windu, alarmed at the turn the investigation had taken. “Master Syfo-Dyas must have ordered it without our knowledge.”  
“Very disturbing this is,” muttered Ki ali Mundi as murmurs of concern filled the Council chamber.  
“They have given me a list of senators,” continued Obi-wan, “who supposedly supported Syfo-Dyas’ decision… What concerns me is that it includes several of the senators who have been targeted by assassination attempts.”  
“I do not understand the connection,” said Ki ali mundi, looking at Mace Windu with concern. “Are the assassination attempts designed to bring the army to our attention?”  
“Or to keep the evidence of the army hidden?” suggested Plo Keen.  
“I will look around more of the complex tomorrow,” said Obi-wan’s image. “I have not been able to speak to the Fetts yet but I will arrange to meet with Jango Fett, who seems to be the leader of the clan. Apparently he designed the armour for the army… been instrumental in designing their training…”  
“That will not be possible, Obi-wan,” said Master Windu gravely, “Jango Fett is dead.”  
“He is?” Despite the problems with the message, Obi-wan’s surprise and disappointment was clear.  
“Yes, he attempted to assassinate Senator Amidala on Dantooine,” explained the Jedi Master, “Anakin killed him when he refused to surrender.”  
“Oh dear… how did he know about the Senator’s whereabouts? I thought they were secure?.”  
“Anakin retrieved some encoded messages sent by Fett which may give us more of an idea about who supplied him with the information,” continued Master Windu,”until then we are as much in the dark as before.”  
“I’ll see if I can find out anything more whilst I’m here,” said Obi-Wan’s hologram, finally stabilising.  
“There must be some light you can shed on this mystery,” urged Mace Windu. “Ansuera Ban died all those years ago trying to discover what happened to Syfo-Dyas, but if the Fetts assumed he was still alive, they may be in the dark as much as we are.”  
“I will also find out more about this army. So far the Buell-We have been very open about its development, I sense no malice or manipulation in their responses to me.”  
“May the Force be with you, Obi-wan.”  
The image winked out. Mace Windu surveyed the rest of the Council, “What do you make of this?”  
“I cannot understand how Syfo-Dyas came to be involved in this subterfuge,” said Ki ali mundi in alarm, “do you think that someone was using his name and the supposed sanction of the Jedi Council in order to push the development of the Republic’s army through?”  
“It may be possible,” agreed Master Windu. “We must meditate on who would have the motivation to issue such an order before the Senate has even decided to create an army. However we must also be careful to distance ourselves from its development. It will be easy for the Senate to blame Syfo-Dyas and the Council for the deception, they know that we are weakened.”   
“What should we do?”  
“Let me commune with Master Yoda,” suggested Mace Windu, “we will wait to hear from him before we make our next move.”

“There is someone here we would very much like you to meet, if you will allow us,” said Taun-We as Obi-wan meet her the next morning after a hearty breakfast. “As you know, we are very proud of our genetic work here, and this warrior is one of our most successful achievements.”  
Intrigued by the suggestion, Obi-wan replied politely, “I would be delighted.”  
Pleased, Taun-We clapped her elegant hands together; “It is rather a long way to walk, Master Kenobi, if you prefer I can secure us a transport?”  
“No I would like to walk, your city here is fascinating and I would like to see more of it, if I can.”  
“Very well.”  
They walked along the corridors of the complex, Taun-We pointing out places of interest to the Jedi Master. Despite his apparent interest he was mulling over in his mind the apparent enthusiasm of the Buell-We to demonstrate to him their abilities. It seemed to him they were potentially scoping out the possibility of more work, but with his attention distracted he was beginning to doubt if he would ever unravel the overall confusion he found himself in.  
Opening a door, Taun We ushered him into another open, white space. “Please wait here for a moment while I fetch our guest. Before I do, I should tell you that when he was brought here, his body was severely damaged and he required extensive modifications to enable him to live independently again. However, I think you will see that what we have done for him will not impair his ability to take part in combat but only enhance it. Now please excuse me whilst I go and fetch him.”  
Obi-wan waited in anticipation, wondering who the visitor might be. It seemed odd that someone would require modifications. For some reason the name of Jango Fett entered his mind; surely they had not been able to recover his body and restore him to life?  
The door opened and Taun-We re-entered accompanied by a bizarre and terrifying figure. Half cyborg, half unknown organic creature, it stalked in on robotic claws and stared about the room with yellow eyes. They narrowed as they saw Master Kenobi but the creature remained silent, only breathing hoarsely.  
“Master Kenobi, I would like you to meet General Grievous.”  
Surprised by the appearance of Grievous, Obi-wan nevertheless controlled his feelings like the adept Jedi he was. “Pleased to meet you, General Grievous.” But I thought you were dead?  
Taun-We was smiling beatifically as ever. “Do you not think he is a marvellous creation? When he was brought here, the General was close to death but we were able to restore him.”  
“Why, yes. The General is extremely well crafted.” Able to withstand being shot down!  
“It is an honour to meet such a renowned Jedi Master,” rasped Grievous eyeing Obi-wan warily. If he remembered who he was, he did not acknowledge him. “The Bwell-we are amongst the foremost creators of technology in the Galaxy. You must be very pleased with the army that they have created for the Council?”  
“Indeed I am.” It worried him that the General knew about the Jedi Council’s apparent implication in the Kamino army. What is going on here?  
“Whilst the General was recovering from his modifications, we asked him to stay here a while to help us develop the training schedules for the ground battalions,” said Taun We helpfully. “His tremendous warfare and combat skills were developed over a number of years, prior to his adaptation of course.”  
“Adaptation?”  
“Oh yes,” continued Taun We in her lullaby voice, “the General’s organic remains are those of the legendary Kaleesh leader, Junwal Grievous.”  
“That is very interesting,” said Obi-wan, which of course was a complete understatement. His head was reeling from all the implications. They went something like this; a supposedly dead Kaleesh warrior, who was associated with the CLONE and was complicit in the existence of the Sith, was involved in the training of troops for an army ordered supposedly by a Jedi Master with the support of the Jedi Council. This Jedi Master had mysteriously disappeared but was linked with a group of senators, some of whom had been recently targeted by a series of assassination attempts. Also associated with the army was a notorious bounty hunter, whose clan was responsible for the assassination of Jedi Knight Ansuera Ban, sent to investigate the whereabouts of Syfo-Dyas, and now the attempted assassination of, amongst others, Senator Amidala, who was leading the campaign against the creation of an army for the Republic, which seemed to have been already created. “From what I have seen the troops are very impressive, General.”  
“I like to think so, Master Jedi,” spoke the General in his disconcerting voice, his skull face gleaming as pale as bone.  
“How did you arrive here, if I might ask?”  
“The General was brought here to us by Lord Tyrannus,” replied Taun-We, seemingly determined to tell General Grievous’ life story. “He said he was an acquaintance of Master Syfo-Dyas.”  
“Lord Tyrannus?” Here was yet another mysterious individual to take account of, but the name was clearly not one that a Jedi would use. “I don’t recall…” But both Grievous and Taun-We seemed oblivious to his concerns as they were quick to change the subject.  
“We like to make the most of our resources here,” said Taun-We as though it all made complete sense, “and whilst the General recuperated it seemed an ideal way to exercise his faculties by involving him in the training of the Republic’s army.”  
“When was this if you mind me asking?”  
“In the time of the thirteenth cycle of Massima.”  
“I see,” replied Obi-wan, which suggested a very short time after the battle of Naboo. “Well, Taun-We, you have been very kind to show me around the complex but I really must return to the Fetts, I have some business with them before I leave.”   
“Of course, Master Kenobi. It is me who must apologise for taking up so much of your time. I hope that your introduction to General Grievous has been interesting?”  
“My visit here has been much more interesting than I could ever have anticipated,” said Obi-wan honestly.  
“It was a pleasure to meet you Master Kenobi,” growled the General as the Jedi Master departed, “I expect our paths will cross again.”  
There was something in his eyes that suggested to Obi-wan such a time would not be long. “I hope not.”

Despite Obi-wan’s best attempts, his eventual conversation with Lula Fett came to very little. It was apparent that she was not willing to impart much information to a curious Jedi Master. However, he did manage to extract from her that Jango Fett, whose son Boba lived on Kamino, had been busy with assignments associated with the Republic that dated back prior to the siege of Naboo and his work took him regularly into Coruscant. The limited information that Lula supplied him with did seem to suggest that it was Jango who had orchestrated, if not carried out, most of the assassination attempts on the selected Senators, and with that Obi-wan had to be content.  
“It is a shame Master Kenobi that you must leave so soon, we were hoping you would stay for longer.” Lama Su and Taun-We escorted Obi-wan back to his ship, although they did not venture out into the lashing rain. “There is so much more that we would like to show you.”  
“Thank you very much but I must report back to Coruscant,” said Obi-wan, glad to be leaving the bizarre place. He was not sure that he could take any more revelations. “As soon as they can, the Council will send either myself or another Jedi Master to find out more about your progress with the army.”  
“We do hope so,” said Lama Su placidly. “Please tell your Council that the first battalions are more than ready and we are continually recruiting to ensure a steady supply of troops. They are completely at your disposal as soon as you require them.”  
“I will do. Thank you very much for your gracious hospitality.”  
“It was a pleasure, Master Kenobi, goodbye for now.”  
The door closed upon his hosts and Obi-wan was back outside in the howling wind and the driving rain. Hurrying over to the ship, he was pleased to see that R4 was already making preparations to leave. Obviously the droid was as fed up with the planet as he was. “Call up the old folks home, R4,” he said as he entered the calmer conditions inside the cockpit.  
The droid bleeped angrily, wondering when it was going to get out of the dreadful weather, but it dutifully made the connection to the Temple, where it was received by Master Windu.  
“Do you have more information for us, Obi-wan?”  
“Yes, in fact I have some startling news. There is no easy way to say this but I have just encountered General Grievous on Kamino.”  
“You mean General Grievous of the CLONE?” Master Windu looked perplexed. “But he was killed at the battle of Naboo.”  
“Yes Master, I believed so too but it seems that he survived. As far as I can tell, he was brought to Kamino by a Lord Tyrannus, who claimed to the Buell-We that he was an acquaintance of Master Syfo-Dyas.”  
“I have never heard of a Lord Tyrannus,” commented Mace Windu, scratching his neck in thought.  
“Neither have I,” continued Obi-wan, “but whoever he was he paid for the Buell-We to restore General Grievous back to health. Even more curiouser is the fact that the General has been training some of the army battalions whilst he recuperates on Kamino.”  
“So he knows of the existence of the Republic’s army?”  
“Yes, and he knows it was ordered by the Jedi Council,” added Obi-wan.  
“This is terrible news,” said Mace, uncertain how to proceed, “the CLONE knows about the Republic’s army before the Republic does. No wonder they have been arrogant enough to ignore our desires for negotiation. This information could seriously damage the government if it becomes common knowledge.”  
“I also spoke to the Fetts,” said Obi-wan, “but all I could find out was that Jango Fett’s assignments took him to Coruscant and the systems associated with the assassination attempts on the Senators. It seems that he either carried them out or recruited others to carry them out for him. But I could not extract from them any details as to who was paying for these assignments.”  
“You have found out more than we ever expected, thank you Obi-wan,” said Mace wearily. It was clear he was going to have to recall the Council to discuss the implications of these revelations. “But before you leave, find out in any way you can from General Grievous if the CLONE have any connection with the Republic’s army or the assassination attempts. We need to know their connection before we can act further.”  
Reluctant to leave the ship again, Obi-wan nonetheless complied with the Jedi Master’s wish. Leaving the ship, and the apoplectic R4, he hurried back into the complex, hoping to find the whereabouts of the General. After many dead ends, he eventually found him in one of the corridors close to where he had spoken to him earlier. However it was clear from the cyborg’s reactions that he was not willing to stop and chat with the Jedi Master; immediately on seeing Obi-wan he turned and ran away in the opposite direction, moving quickly despite the peculiar gait forced upon him by his cybernetic limbs. Evasion was all the proof Obi-wan needed. Keeping one hand on his lightsaber, he ran after him. Grievous had a head start, and it was difficult for the Jedi Master to match his lolloping gait, but he kept up with him and eventually Grievous was forced to exit the complex. Obi-wan followed him through the door and out into the pouring rain hoping to finally intercept the fleeing General; squinting through the droplets that cascaded onto his face and into his eyes he could see a ship was waiting on the far side of the platform. Clearly it was part of Grievous’ escape plan.  
“Ready the ship,” grunted Grievous into his comlink. Then, drawing a blaster from the depths of his clinging and soggy cloak, Grievous fired at Obi-wan. However, the amount of rain on the platform made it difficult to stand and Grievous almost slipped with the effort, sending his laser fire harmlessly into the walls of the complex.  
Seizing the initiative, Obi-wan ran towards the General, reaching him and knocking the blaster from his skeletal hand with his lightsaber. For a moment they grappled until the General managed to knock Obi-wan’s lightsaber from his hand and punched him hard in the face, cackling triumphantly as Obi-wan landed heavily on the slippery deck. Winded by the force of his fall, Obi-wan was unable to get up or stop the cyborg from mercilessly kicking him towards the edge of the platform. As the crashing waves got louder and louder in his ears, Obi-wan grappled desperately for a handhold on the slick surface but couldn’t find one, seeing the platform edge coming closer. Beneath him, the grey ocean tossed and churned with ferocity, waiting to claim him.  
General Grievous watched with satisfaction as Obi-wan Kenobi continued his irresistible slide off the platform and disappeared to whatever fate awaited him in the ranging currents. Tottering carefully to the edge, the cyborg peered over the platform, waiting to see if the Jedi would emerge. However, seeing no sign of Obi-wan it seemed clear that he had been knocked into the ocean and was being churned about in the waves. Chuckling to himself, the General made his way up the platform to where his ship was waiting, creeping in his irregular gait. As he did so, he saw something glinting in a puddle; it was Obi-wan’s lightsaber.  
“I think I’ll take this with me,” said Grievous to himself, picking up the lightsaber and attaching it to his belt, “as a souvenir.”  
The fight with Obi-wan had invigorated him, reminding him of the good old days when he had fought the Jedi across the Galaxy. There had been more Jedi Masters then and constituted a real threat to those who despised the Jedi, as Junwal Grievous had. Now, the remains of Junwal reflected, they were a dying force, inspiring only contempt rather than fear.

Lightning flashed and the rain continued to lash the floating city, sending torrents of water streaming down from the edges of the platform into the sea, making it difficult for Obi-wan to keep hold of the railing hidden beneath the edge of the landing platform. Only through sheer force of will did he manage to hold on and eventually he found the strength to swing his legs up onto the platform, heaving his body with all his might until he lay, panting heavily, at the edge. Looking down into the ocean he felt the salty water in his mouth, in his eyes and in his ears and wanted to retch but he forced himself upright. It took him a while to hobble back to his ship on the other side of the complex, still nauseous from the salt water. However, as soon as he got there and entered the cockpit, he checked the console and entered a series of co-ordinates. For a moment he waited and then - got it! The homing beacon he had hidden upon his lightsaber was located several parsecs from Kamino, suggesting that Grievous had taken it with him. “R4 we need to follow that beacon, can you get a fix on it?”  
Finally able to leave, the droid bleeped with excitement.  
“I know, it’s not been my favourite place to visit either.” With an enthusiasm the rest of his body resisted, Obi-wan punched the controls and his ship lifted off into the storm in hot pursuit of the elusive cyborg.


	8. Tragedy on Tatooine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Padme arrive on Tatooine but find that his mother Shmi has gone missing, presumed captured by the Tusken Raiders. Cleeg Lars tells Anakin that he and some farmers are planning to lead a raid on their settlement and he agrees to go with them. But the raid doesn't go as planned and Shmi dies before Anakin can help her.
> 
> On Coruscant, Chancellor Palpatine and the Jedi agree that the army is needed to fight the CLONE, which cuts out the need to requisition troops from across Republic systems. The defection of Count Dooku has also created alarm amongst the Jedi Council as he forms his own Separatist group of systems who are disillusioned with the Republic and the Jedi.
> 
> Obi-wan tracks General Grievous to Geonosis, where he finds the source of the CLONE's armaments production. He also finds that Grievous is allied to a surprising individual but before he can find out more, he is captured. Padme and Anakin rush to help him.

Landing a short distance away from the Lars homestead, the small but sleek Naboo fighter came to rest on the harsh and unforgiving terrain of Tatooine. Leaving Artoo to watch over the ship, Padmé and Anakin walked over to where they hoped they would find, for a few days at least, a safe haven. As they approached the homestead, Anakin could not help but notice that it had barely changed in the intervening years, a small constant when the rest of his life had changed so utterly. However, before he reached the entrance, he came to a sudden halt.  
“What is it?” asked Padmé with concern, wondering why he was hesitating. It was the middle of the day and she was longing to escape from the oppressive heat.  
“Something doesn’t feel right.” Floating up from the courtyard was the sound of animated voices.  
Padmé was more practical, “Why don’t we go down and find out?”  
They descended down into the courtyard. As they came out from the cooler stairwell into the intense heat of a Tatooine afternoon, they first saw Owen, taller and broader than when they had last seen him, standing at the far side of the courtyard. He was stood talking with two older men, all holding rifles. A young woman stood to the left of them, hugging her arms against her chest and looking very upset.   
“Owen!” Seeing that the group was too engrossed to notice them, Anakin called out to his brother.  
The men looked round, squinting to see who was heading towards them. “Who’s that?”  
“Wait a minute,” demanded Owen, not recognising his brother at first, “you just can’t walk in here…”  
“Hey, it’s me, Anakin,” said the young Jedi, holding his hands up in a welcoming gesture.  
A slow realisation replaced the scowl on Owen’s face, “Anakin? Is that really you?”  
“Yes, have I changed that much?”  
Reaching him, Owen embraced his brother awkwardly. “You’ve a lot uglier than I remember.”  
“Thanks,” although the tension had gone from the men’s faces, Anakin continued to sense their unease. “I’m sorry to just turn up like this.”  
“No problem, it’s great to see you. We thought you weren’t ever coming back.”  
“You remember Padmé?” It was beginning to worry him that no mention had been made of Shmi.  
Owen nodded, “Hello Padmé.” They both looked different, especially Anakin in his Jedi robes. He was taller, more imposing somehow. Remembering his manners, Owen introduced the two newcomers to the rest of the group. “This is Beru Whitesun, her uncle Gerlin, and Soll is a farmer out west.” Whilst the farmers merely nodded their welcomes, the sweet-faced young woman with her hair dressed into intricate plaits greeted them quietly, “Hello.”  
“I guess you came about Shmi,” said Owen, turning back to Anakin. “We’re going out to look for her.”  
“Why, what’s happened to her?” Anakin could feel the panic rising in his stomach.  
“You don’t know what’s happened? Sorry, I assumed that’s why you were here.”  
“How could he know,” pointed out Soll wisely, “he only just got here.”   
“Where is she?”  
“We don’t know,” admitted Owen, rubbing a sore patch on his skin. “Dad can tell you more.”  
“I can,” said Cleeg’s voice from behind them.  
Turned around, Anakin saw Cleeg hobbling out of one of the rooms, looking much older then he remembered. His face betrayed signs of strain, as did his long and tangled beard.  
“Good to see you back, son,” said Cleeg, shaking Anakin’s hand when he joined them. “It’s been a while.”  
“I take it things have not been good here,” replied Anakin with concern.  
“Not really, come on inside and I’ll give you the low down.” He smiled at Padmé, “Back again too, eh?”  
“Yes,” said Padmé, quietly. She was out of sorts, feeling the tension keenly.  
Inside the cool interior of the homestead, the group gathered in the kitchen, the only room with enough seats. Padmé was not surprised to see that everything was exactly the same as when she had last been there five years ago: the same clean and neat interior with minimal furniture.   
“We don’t know where your mother is,” said Cleeg as gently as he could. “She went missing two weeks ago. She liked to go walking in the desert on her own and I stupidly never stopped her.”   
Anakin looked at him sympathetically, “She always did like walking on her own, I wouldn’t blame yourself.”  
“But I should have stopped her,” said Cleeg sadly, “especially since the amount of attacks by the sand people have gone up recently.”  
“One of their settlements was burned down by a party from Mos Espa and it was rumoured they were out looking for revenge,” explained Owen, scratching a scab on his cheek.  
“So you think she’s been taken by the sand people?” This was not a good omen: those taken by the desert tribes were rarely seen again.   
“We can’t think what else has happened to her! We’ve kept looking for her, tried all the settlements as far as Mos Eisley, talked to slave traders and even the stinking Hutts but there’s no sign of her. It’s as though she vanished from the face of the planet,” said Cleeg morosely.  
Whilst this was not impossible, after all Tatooine was a hub of inter-planetary slave trading and trafficking, Anakin had to hold onto the hope that she was still nearby, “Do you know which tribe might have taken her?”  
“We think they can’t be too far away,” said Owen, “one tribe has been raiding the farms in this part of the Dune Sea for several months now. Four people have gone missing, if you include Shmi.”  
“We should try and find them,” said Anakin decisively, “even if we do not find Shmi, we might be able to talk to the tribe, find out what they know.”  
All the farmers laughed at this. “What? You want to talk to the sand people?” scoffed Owen, hardly believing his ears, “you can’t talk to those violent scumbags, they’d rather kill you as soon as look at you.”  
“We’ve lost ten men already trying to find them,” explained Cleeg, seeing that Anakin had good motives but wondering if being on Coruscant had made him forget the realities of life on Tatooine. “There are more of us going out today, about thirty of us.”  
“Well, you can add one more to your total,” said Anakin firmly.  
On the opposite side of the kitchen, Beru shut the cold unit and carried a jug of juice over to the counter where Padmé was busy finding her some cups. “You and Anakin must have travelled a long way to be here from Coruscant?”  
“It’s not safe enough for us to be on Coruscant at the moment,” she said by way of explanation, “Anakin thought we would be safer here.”  
“I’m sorry that you came at a bad time.” Beru sensed that there was more to the story but she was not one to pry, “But you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. I’m sure Cleeg won’t mind, he needs the company.”  
“Thank you.”  
“I hope Anakin is looking after you properly,” Beru finished sharing the juice out between all the glasses, half emptying the jug, “He seems very young for a Jedi.”  
“He’s still training to be a Jedi,” Padmé felt her cheeks grow slightly hot, “but he looks after me more than he needs to.”  
“Good, it’s how it should be.”  
The two women went over to the table, Beru carrying the tray of drinks and snacks. As Padmé took a seat next to Anakin, he quickly explained to her what had happened. “We think the sand people might have taken Shmi.”  
“Sand people?”  
“Native tribes that live in the desert,” he said, reaching over to take drinks for the Senator and for himself, “they move around from place to place.”  
“Native or not,” said Gerlin vehemently, “they’re scum! The sooner we get rid of them all the better.” Most, if not all, of the farmers on Tatooine, feared the strange tribes of the desert.  
“It won’t be easy,” Soll took a generous swig of juice, “they’ve got more weapons than we have.”  
“But Anakin’s a Jedi,” said Owen, looking at his brother proudly. “The sand people won’t stand a chance.”  
“A Jedi, huh?” Gerlin looked at Anakin with greater interest, “can’t say I’ve ever met one before.”  
“That’s because most of ‘em don’t leave that Temple they live in,” grinned Soll, showing, contrary to expectations, perfect teeth.  
“There are many misconceptions about the Jedi,” said the young man, “but only ninety-five per cent are true.”  
His attempt at a joke earned him he respect of the men, and soon talk had turned back to the job at hand. Anakin was keen to see a map of the surrounding area so that he could plan their strategy carefully (although this was greeted by the men as more evidence of Jedi strangeness); he pored over it, almost forgetting to eat the nutritious meal that Beru prepared for them, but soon had a burgeoning plan in his head.  
“Don’t get your hopes up too much, son” said Cleeg, as they checked over their weapons. “She might not be there after all.” One concern was that the sand people regularly sold their human captives to other traders on the black market, meaning there might never be a record of what had happened to Shmi.  
“I know, but we need to have hope and trust in the Force to help us find her,” said Anakin, feeling calm now that he was focused on making preparations. “If you don’t mind, I’ll wait for you up top.”  
Padmé watched him go, her eyes full of concern. She turned to Cleeg. “Why would the sand people take Shmi? What use would she be to them?”  
“They need slaves to run their camps and do the dirty work the sand people refuse to do, such as interacting with other humans,” muttered Cleeg darkly, “They’re monsters. I hope Anakin don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t want him to get his hopes up. I expect she’s dead by now.”  
“Why?”  
“Not many survive being taken by the sand people,” explained Cleeg, looking into his cup, his tired face reflected in the liquid. “Sometimes you find them, wandering in the desert. Talking of terrible things.” He shrugged, “If they don’t die at the hands of the sand people, most of them die a few days later from their experiences.”  
“We found the remains of one of their camps,” added Owen, whilst Beru looked on silently, her own thoughts too horrible to articulate. “There were bones and crap left everywhere. We couldn’t tell what they belonged to.”  
“Anakin will find her,” said Padmé sadly, “I know he will.”  
“I hope you’re right my dear,” said Cleeg, having little truck with the mysticism of the Force as promoted by the Jedi. “But I’d keep an eye on Anakin if I were you,” he added, patting her hand, “he was close to his mother and she to him. Whatever we find, I don’t think he’ll take it too well.”  
“I should go and check on him.” Wrapping her cloak around her, Padmé left the kitchen and traipsed up the stone stairs that led to the desert above. As her eyes adjusted to the suns’ glare, she saw Anakin standing a little way from the homestead, facing towards the horizon. His eyes were closed and he was clearly meditating. Not wishing to disturb him, Padmé made to go back inside but then he called her over.  
“Are you alright?” she asked him.  
“I think I know where she is.” As he turned around, his hair caught the sun’s rays, creating a halo of light around his face, “Do you mind staying here? I know I should be protecting you…”  
For once she had no qualms about being kept out of the action, “It’s okay, I thought I’d stay here and keep Beru company.” Placing her hand on his arm, she added, “I hope you find her.”  
“So do I.” He hated to think that his mother could be in danger or dying alone without her family around her.  
“All set,” Cleeg trudged up and out of the stairwell, clutching his rifle. His eyes, hidden under shaggy brows were filled with grim determination. “We’ll meet the others by the third marker.”  
As Anakin made to leave, Padmé felt tears welling up in her eyes and she impatiently brushed them away. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”  
“Don’t worry,” he said, “we’ll be back before you know.” But he knew that time would move more slowly for those who waited and did not begrudge her concern.  
“Take care, Anakin.” Standing back, she watched as the young Jedi and the farmers set out across the desert, not returning inside until they had vanished over the horizon.

By the time night was falling, the motley group of farmers and Jedi had left the flatter plainlands around the homestead. Instead of the tiring uniformity of sand, the plains were strewn with vast decaying cliffs left high and dry after the ancient seas that shaped them had long since receded and dried up. The Jungland Wastes were rarely travelled by anyone but the brave or the foolhardy; it was the domain of spirits, wild creatures and the Tusken Raiders, the real name of the dreaded sand people. But there was little evidence as to their whereabouts and most of the group, including Owen, were beginning to doubt that they would even find the sand peoples’ settlement, let alone their missing family members.  
Still optimistic, Anakin was relying on instinct alone, trying to grasp the location of the ephemeral sense he had of his mother that came to him through the Force as if on invisible tentacles. The feelings were fragile but he had sensed them more than enough times to persuade him that they were travelling in the right direction. But then the trail went cold and it was not until they stumbled across a caravan of Jawas, heading towards Mos Eisley to ply their trade and scavenge for more precious parts and droids, that they were able to find out that a tribe of Tuskens had already passed that way the day before. And more promising still, the Jawas said, after a little persuasion, that they had seen human captives amongst them.

It had not always been easy, but Obi-wan had eventually tracked the homing beacon to a planet his navicomp identified as Geonosis. In his cockpit window it appeared as a huge red giant encircled by a jumble of asteroids and dust that had caught in its orbit. Navigating carefully through the asteroids, his scanner was picking up huge concentrations of energy not only on the planet but also around it. Processing it through the ship’s computer, Obi-wan noted that the energy was concentrated particularly in metals, suggesting technology or factories. Something was being made here and in large amounts. “I wonder.” Bringing up the readout for Kamino, he noticed that there was a remarkable similarity in their composition. The CLONE must have built their army somewhere, he thought and it was unlikely that they would choose the same planet as the Republic. Still following the location of the homing beacon, he headed away from the asteroid field and descended towards the planet. As his ship skimmed along the surface, Obi-wan could see that Geonosis had little to recommend it. It was similar to Tatooine in regard to its arid conditions but instead of sand he saw endless stretches of dull red rock, strangely featureless when viewed from above. However, as he swooped closer he began to realise that he was flying above a huge outcrop, overlooking another, flatter valley. Here and there occasional tall stalagmites stood out dramatically on the barren plains. In the distance he could see rising steam coming from the flatter areas but he decided to avoid getting too close; steam would mean activity and activity he wanted to avoid. He had had enough confrontations for one day and the loss of his lightsaber meant that he had to be extra cautious not to attract trouble. Eventually he spied a small rocky outcrop which would be perfect for hiding his ship; landing carefully, he climbed out of the ship and looked around him. The air was still, the night quiet, except for the occasional cry from an unknown creature or creatures. Checking his location, Obi-wan headed away towards the west. Reaching the edge of the promontory without incident, he pulled out his binoculars and surveyed the surrounding plains for clues as to where he might locate his homing beacon.  
“Let’s see.”  
After a while it became clear that he had all the evidence he needed in one handy location. As one of the systems outside the jurisdiction of the Republic, Geonosis had largely been forgotten but it seemed that it inhabitants were busy. Far to the west, covering the flat landscape, he could see what looked like industrial units where the workers were either packing or moving armaments to awaiting cruisers. In another area he could see hordes of battle droids marching out of another complex of units, heading towards an unknown destination. The rising steam he had noticed was coming from underground, possibly linked to some form of manufacture.  
“Hmmm very interesting.”  
Such a finding was dynamite. If Grievous knew of the army under preparation on Kamino, it was not surprising that the CLONE were making their own preparations in response. It also explained why the CLONE had not capitalised on that knowledge; because of the size of the army ordered by Syfo-Dyas they were clearly waiting to build up their own units before attacking the Republic openly. However, Obi-wan also thought it was possible that the CLONE may have attempted to claim the army for themselves but the Buell-We had proved impossible to corrupt. It might explain the assassination of senators who knew about the army (to prevent the Republic from finding out) and the presence of General Grievous on Kamino. There was the matter of his rebuilding following his accident at the battle of Naboo but that did not explain the length of his presence on Kamino; from what the Buell-We had shown him, their genetic technology was so advanced an individual could be restored in a matter of months, not years. No, he was increasingly certain that the presence of Grievous on Kamino pointed to more sinister reasons. It did not explain everything - he was still unsure why Senator Amidala was being targeted as she was against the army, not for it - but it was starting to make more sense in his mind. Having made a note of his findings and using the binoculars to take images, Obi-wan decided to return with his evidence to the ship; he knew the Council would be most fascinated to hear about what he had found.

It was late, there had been an entire day of long debate in the Senate and no conclusions had yet been reached on the matter of declaring war on the CLONE or the creation of a large army. The debate had continued in the Chancellor’s palatial offices, several of the more resilient senators determined to resolve the issue before it tore the Senate apart. Neither demand could be separated; the creation of an army had been connected with the desire for war against the CLONE, which had only created more division amongst the many star systems that made up the Republic. The Senators were joined by Jedi Masters Mace Windu and Ki ali Mundi; after hearing from Obi-wan as to the scale of preparations on Geonosis, they had decided to take their evidence to the Executive; it was no longer a matter of the Jedi’s reputation but the very survival of the Republic.  
“Obi-wan has tracked General Grievous to the system of Geonosis,” said Master Windu, handing over their intelligence reports to the Chancellor. “He has found evidence of industrial workings on an unprecedented scale.”  
“It seems that the CLONE are preparing themselves for war as we continue to debate every minute detail in the Senate,” said Senator Organa, greatly concerned by what had been happening far away from the supposed centre of the Republic.  
“Powerful interests are using the CLONE as a façade, I am certain of it,” said Senator Fang Zar angrily. “Whilst they have diverted us with their dirty assassination and sabotage attempts they have been building their forces against us.”  
“But why have the Bwell-we been asked to create an army for the Republic before we have agreed to the Military Creation Act?” asked Solipo Yeb glancing over the intelligence report, “It makes no sense.”  
“You are right, honourable comrade,” said the Chancellor, glancing over the report for himself. “As Master Windu tells us, it was apparently created on the orders of a Jedi Master with the support of the Council and a group of Senators. But this support was neither real nor given, Master Syfo-Dyas seemed to have acted on his own initiative.”  
“It suggests that there is a deeper reason for the creation of this army, a reason that we need to uncover with haste,” said Master Windu. “I doubt that Master Syfo-Dyas was acting on his own initiative as you suggest, Chancellor Palpatine.”  
“One thing is we cannot allow the Senate to learn of the army’s existence,” interjected Bail Organa, less concerned for the moment about the reasons why the army came into being than for damage limitation, “and we must seek an answer to what we do with it. If the CLONE already knows of its existence then…”  
“There is no time for debate, we need this army to protect us against the CLONE,” interjected Senator As Aak militantly. “This discovery is opportune. If we go to the Senate and reveal its existence along with this intelligence relating to the CLONE, those in opposition may be more reasonable towards the terms of the Military Creation Act.”  
“Esteemed colleague, I assure you that it will not be that simple,” replied Senator Organa patiently. “Notwithstanding the Jedi Council’s own esteemable efforts,” here he nodded towards Master Windu, “there will need to be an official investigation by the Senate into its creation and we need to allow for opportunities to ask questions.”  
“With respect, Senator Organa,” said Solipo Yeb, “I agree with our colleague. We need this army to defend the Republic against growing threats. The Jedi Order will not be enough in the event of a full-scale war.”  
“That is true,” said Master Windu, “our ability to protect the Republic is greatly diminished by a natural decline in the number of Jedi Knights and Masters. We have increased our number of trainees successfully but it will be many years before our labours begin to bear fruit.”  
“However, you cannot ignore the threat that sanctioning the creation of the army will lead to war with the CLONE,” Senator Organa pointed out, “and potentially with the Separatists, led by Count Dooku. We must be very careful in how we proceed.”  
“You are both very wise,” said Palpatine wearily, sensing another stalemate. “But we are in an impossible situation. The CLONE already know about the creation of an army for the Republic even if the Senate have not agreed it. No doubt they are waiting for the time to use that intelligence against us, as wise Master Windu has already suggested. Whether we declare war on the CLONE or not is now surely a trivial matter as the CLONE are clearly preparing for war against us. We have all sworn to protect the Republic yet by protecting its integrity we are slowly drifting to war which ever way we look at the situation. I fear that we are in a terrible crisis, my friends.”  
There was a silence as Senators and Jedi took in the Chancellor’s concerns; it was very difficult to disagree with his assessment of the situation.  
“Perhaps there is a way through the stalemate,” said Mas Amadda, the Vice Chancellor, after a period of deep thought. “In such a crisis the Senate can approve the use of emergency powers by the Supreme Chancellor. It has only happened once before but if this was to be approved, the Chancellor could push through the terms of the Military Creation Act without needing to debate it further in the Senate.”  
“The situation you talk about set a dangerous precedent,” said Palpatine, turning to his colleague, “which the Senate decided was to akin to creating a dictatorship.”  
“Yet it prevented a war last time, your Excellency,” replied the Vice Chancellor, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth as it did when he was anxious. “As our illustrious Jedi Masters intimate, the scale of the army created at Kamino may be enough to intimidate the CLONE into backing down.”  
“There would have to be a proper investigation into the army,”insisted Senator Organa, like the two Jedi unsure about the course of action suggested by the Vice Chancellor. “We cannot present the matter as a fait accompli otherwise it will only raise further suspicion amongst those who have resisted the formation of the army.”  
“I agree, Senator Organa, it is an extreme a solution to countenance,” said Palpatine. “Tell me, if we do not take advantage of this army, and the CLONE declare war upon the Republic, how many battalions of the Republic Army would we be able to raise?”  
“A hundred, a hundred and fifty at most,” said Bail, who was the Senate’s representative on the High Command, the body which ran the Republic’s army. The Emergency Requisitioning Act, which sought to remedy the situation, was still languishing in its draft stages; no one seemed able to agree on any of its fifteen thousand clauses.  
“And Master Windu,” continued the Chancellor, turning to the Jedi Master, “how many Jedi would be able to serve us in such a time of need?”  
“We have around fifty available Jedi Masters, your Excellency, and one hundred Jedi Knights,” explained Windu carefully. “However, they may not all be willing to serve, depending on their beliefs.”  
“Ah, I see,” murmured the Chancellor, who had been informed about the evangelical mood sweeping through the Jedi Temple. “So your numbers are also curtailed by the circumstances we find ourselves in.”  
“Yes, the defection of Count Dooku has cost us dear,” agreed Master Windu. “As a matter of urgency, Master KI adi Mundi and myself have decided to travel to Kamino to see this army for ourselves. If the scale suggested by Obi-wan’s intelligence is correct, then it might be sufficient to protect the Republic without the need for the Emergency Requisitioning Act.”  
“A good idea, my friends,” agreed the Chancellor.  
“With all respect,” said Solipo Yeb after listening to these figures, “if the Senate were made aware of the danger that the Republic faced from the CLONE, with so few troops at our disposal, I cannot imagine the wrangling over the Military Creation Act would continue.”  
“There are many Senators who would continue to speak out against it, we must grant the Chancellor emergency powers,” repeated Mas Amadda, “I am convinced it is the only way.”  
“I do not know if I agree with your conclusion, Vice Chancellor,” responded Palpatine, looking solemnly at the assembled group, “it is far too risky and I do not feel that any Senator would be willing to even propose this solution. No, we must consider all the possibilities again and see what can be done before such a dramatic course of action is taken.”

By the time they reached the location of the Tusken camp, night had fallen. Kneeling at the promontory’s edge, Anakin looked down onto a collection of canvas tents, lit here and there with blazing fires. It was the closest he had ever been to a Tusken camp; to most of the settlers on Tatooine they were places to be avoided. There were stories amongst the settlers that somewhere in the wilderness was found a permanent settlement of the Tuskens, bristling with stolen weaponry and filled to the brim with their ill-gotten gains. But no-one had ever found any evidence of such a place and it had slipped into legend alongside the existence of water and vegetation on the arid planet. More likely there were hundreds of settlements dotted across the desert wastes, following the bantha herds as they sought scarce food supplies.  
He hoped that he would find his mother and sneak her out of the camp before he had to interact with any of its inhabitants. The expedition in itself created a dilemma for the young Jedi; to regard the Tuskens as monstrous invaders as the farmers portrayed them went against the core beliefs at the heart of Jedi training which necessitated respect for all creatures created by the Force. Growing up on Tatooine, Anakin had experience of the reality; that the farmers were as hated and feared by the Tuskens, each side escalating the conflict until there was no chance of them living side by side peacefully.  
Motioning to Cleeg, Anakin waited until the older man reached him. “Down there.”  
“There’s only a couple of guards,” said Cleeg, blinking from the light of the fires below.  
“But we don’t want to wake the rest up,” pointed out Gerlin from behind him. “Maybe one of us should go first? To see if there really is human captives.”  
“I’ll go,” said Anakin calmly, “I can sense Shmi is down there.” He hardly cared if they thought he was crazy; the farmers were sceptical about the Force, the practical mindset demanded by their harsh lives removing all need for mystical beliefs.  
When Cleeg looked about to protest, Anakin said firmly, “Gerlin’s right, one of us has less chance of being seen. And I know where to look.”  
“But you’ve got more chance of being killed if caught,” muttered Owen, unsure whether to regard Anakin as brave or foolish.  
Anakin patted his lightsaber, “Don’t you worry about me.”  
“Are you sure son?” Cleeg looked at him paternally, “I know you want to save your mother but she wouldn’t want…”  
“Wait here, I won’t be long,” interjected Anakin, anxious to get moving. The waves of suffering he could feel coming from the camp were almost unbearable. Then, all at once he leapt from the promontory to the desert floor below, his cape spreading out about him like the wings of an enormous bird, steadying his fall. The rest of the men watched in amazement as he plummeted down, landed gracefully at the bottom and, without a pause, ran towards the camp.  
“Well I never,” exclaimed Soll, looking at the stupefied faces around him, “maybe there is something in this Force nonsense after all.”  
“We better get going,” insisted Owen, looking for a more conventional way of getting down, “whatever Anakin says he won’t be able to get in and out without being noticed.”

Cloaked in the obscurity of the force, nobody saw the shadowy figure making its way through the densely packed tents. As he anticipated it did not take Anakin long to find the one in which he believed his mother to be kept; his senses were so overloaded he felt dizzy. Unhooking his lightsaber from his belt, he drew closer to the tent and carefully worked a hole in the canvas just large enough to enter unseen. Keeping his weapon close, he ducked under the flap and climbed into the tent, nervous with anticipation. As his eyes registered in the thick darkness, he saw that there were two figures lying on a makeshift wooden bed at the far end of the tent. Another two figures were lying on the sand, hidden beneath thick blankets. No life signs emitted from their being. Creeping over, his heart wrenched in agony when he saw that one of the figures on the bed was his mother, apparently unconscious. For some reason she was tied to the bed by her wrists and his fingers stumbled over the knots as he hastily undid them, before taking up her poor thin body limply into his arms.  
“Who is it?” she asked softly, her eyes opening and staring wildly in front of her.  
“It’s me, Anakin,” said her son softly. Taking his mother into his arms, he cradled her close to his chest, sensing that there was very little life left within her. Hopefully it was enough to get her home. Gazing at her poor face, he saw that she was much thinner than how he remembered her, the skin drawn so tightly over the bones it looked about to break. Blood was caked around her eyes, around her nose; a long thin scar stretched from her eyebrow to her lip, all visible reminders of whatever horrors had been inflicted upon her. His heart burned and soon the tears were falling unchecked, spilling onto his mother’s cheeks.  
Although her eyes were open there was no recognition in them and she stared at him, not comprehending.  
“It’s me. Anakin,” he repeated, stroking her greying hair away from her face, biting his lip to prevent it from trembling.  
“Anakin…?” she fingered his robes and he tried to smile but it turned once more to pain as he saw how ill she was, “You’re… a Jedi?”  
“Yes, a Jedi,” said Anakin tenderly as she touched his face with a trembling hand. “I have to get you out of here.”  
“Not… enough time.” Shmi’s eyes fluttered as she sought to keep them open, to gaze upon him one last time, “Anakin… to see you… so handsome… to… have you here. I can be happy.”  
Her voice was so weak he had to bend close to hear her. Somehow he knew that she was not coming with him and he fell silent as he watched the life ebb from her. She was barely able to hear or see him now as her senses clouded with the advance of eternal darkness, “Anakin leave me…”  
“No, you’re coming with me.” He couldn’t leave her here, surrounded by death. “I love you.”  
“I love you… Anakin… remember…” With one last rasping gasp, her head jerked back in his arms and then she lay still.   
For a moment, Anakin just sat with his mother’s body in his arms, horrified that the visions that had come through the Force had been real, had led to this moment. Had they been sent to test him? He felt his grasp on his emotions beginning to slip away the more he sat there. Life seemed meaningless for him at that moment. What good was a destiny if it meant losing the people he loved? First Qui-Gon and now his mother. But it was the injustice of his mother’s squalid end, left to die broken and bleeding in a stinking tent, which upset him the most.  
However, he took a deep breath and wrapped his mother’s body in a spare blanket before hoisting it onto his shoulder. Carefully making his way back to the hole he had created, he emerged from the tent only to find himself face to face with a group of Tuskens, angrily gesticulating at each other. Obviously something had happened to alarm them: angrily he wondered if the farmers had followed him down, I told them to wait! As soon as they saw him, the Tuskens brandished their weapons, yelling at him in their incomprehensible language. There was to be no time for talking and Anakin grabbed his lightsaber from his belt. Despite the size of the group, Anakin’s advantage was his quick reactions and he dispatched several of the Tuskens before they realised what was happening. It created enough diversion for him to escape between the tents, heading towards the camp entrance where he heard the sounds of struggle.   
“Anakin, help!”  
It was clearly Cleeg’s voice; looking over, Anakin could see a frantic battle going on between the Tuskens and the farmers. He was stuck in the middle, with more Tuskens emerging out of their tents from behind him. Dropping his mother’s body to the ground, Anakin knew there was little for them to do except fight their way out.

Padmé paced around the garage, unable to sleep. She had come there in hope, wondering if there was something to tinker with that might take away the agonising fears that kept her awake. But the garage was only full of shadows and rusted parts, and memories of talking to a younger Anakin. He’s in danger… I know he is… Curling up on the floor, she felt the stress rising in her throat, tears prickling her eyelids. Get a grip she admonished herself, angrily wiping away them away. Most of the time she could channel her stress, using it as a force for getting things done. But now that there was nothing to do except sit and wait for things to happen, she was falling apart. She had never felt so tired and so weepy, so uncertain of things. She wanted to be at the centre again, close to the action not languishing on its margins.  
“Are you alright, Padmé?”  
Padmé looked up to see Beru, her gentle smile framed by long, fair hair. “Sorry, did I wake you?”  
“No, you didn’t. I can’t sleep.” Beru came and sat beside her. “I’m worried, very few people come back from a raid on the sand people.”  
Padmé leant her head against the bench behind her, “I can’t help thinking something terrible has happened.”  
“Tell me about Anakin,” said Beru, hoping it would take both their minds away from the cause of their worry, if only for a few minutes. “Shmi used to tell me all sorts of stories about him, she made him sound so wonderful.” She smiled, “And I know this sounds strange but meeting him, I knew what Shmi told me was true.”  
“He’s not like most of the Jedi I have met,” said Padmé thoughtfully, “they are dull and serious but Anakin cannot hide his emotions, his spirit shines through whatever he does. He cares about people and never thinks of himself, only of others. And he’s very brave but he thinks nothing of it. He says it is his duty.”  
Beru smiled. “You care very much for him.”  
“Yes.”  
“Do you wish it could be more than that?” Beru had noticed the surreptitious glances between the two young people.  
Smiling, Padmé looked down at her hands, “I wish it were that simple.”  
“Sometimes it can be enough to know that the other person feels the same way.”  
“You’re right,” agreed Padmé, after all that the most that she could hope for. “I hope they come back.”  
“I hope so too,” now Beru’s eyes were shining.  
And they remained there for a while; leaning against each other for comfort, dark curls mingling with fair waves, until they both fell asleep.

Death was everywhere, bodies and limbs lying haphazardly in piles, their blank, staring eyes and empty faces; stripped of their dignity they lay as if frozen, the sand about them stained with their blood. Not only Tuskens but farmers too, enemies brought close in death.  
“That looks bad.” Owen was looking at Cleeg’s leg with concern, a huge gash opened where a Tusken spear had caught him. Already his pants were saturated with blood; hastily bound strips from Owen’s jerkin were starting to spot.  
“I’ll live,” muttered Cleeg, although he looked anything but all right. His face was deathly pale and he was shaking. Owen and Soll had to help him to his feet. “Where’s Anakin?”  
“I don’t know,” admitted Owen. “I’ll go and find him.”  
Owen found Anakin collecting the bodies of the Tuskens and arranging them in neat rows, another example of his craziness in Owen’s eyes. “You’ll be here all day if you start doing that.”  
“It’s the least we can do,” muttered Anakin. Now that his rage had subsided, all he was left with was the cold stark realisation he was no different from the monsters of the farmers’ imagination. Once the anger had taken over him, it had been easy to murder them in revenge for what they had done to Shmi. “I’m almost finished.”  
“I’ll get a couple of the others to help,” Owen looked anxiously at the bundle of blankets lying separately from the main pile, “Is that…?”  
“Yes. We were too late.” Even to his own ears Anakin’s voice sounded flat and lifeless.  
Owen nodded, unsure what to say. “I’ll go and tell Cleeg we’re about ready to go.”

Intrigued by his findings so far, Obi-wan decided to follow a rocky path which led from the towering rock formation under which he was parked to the entrance of a long dark tunnel that headed down into the earth. Unable to sense anything immediately untoward except a vague dampness, the Jedi Master cautiously crept down the tunnel, keeping as close to the wall as possible. He felt vulnerable without his lightsaber; if anything happened he’d have to rely on his negotiation skills alone. It was not a pleasant thought but curiosity had got the better of him and he continued onwards.  
The tunnel eventually connected with a long corridor that looked like it had been decorated purposefully rather than simply hewn out of the rock. The floor was lined with marble and ornate vents in the wall allowed in natural light from above. At intervals along the corridor at floor level were more of these elaborate vents. From them, Obi-wan could hear voices. With care, he ventured near one of the vents, checking around to ensure he was still alone. Feeling satisfied he peered down into the room revealed by the vent.  
Below him was a large room, at the centre of which was a table. The group around the table were involved in an animated discussion but it was the composition of the group that was the most interesting find for the Jedi. At it’s head sat Count Dooku; alongside him were representatives of the star systems that had been involved in early alliances with the CLONE and representatives of the Inter-Planetary Guilds, in fact anyone with an interest in the Republic’s downfall. However, another figure then entered the room which caused the entire group to fall silent.  
“General Grievous,” he heard Dooku’s rich voice proclaim. “You have arrived here much sooner than we expected.”  
“Events, and one of your former colleagues, forced me here, your Eminency,” coughed Grievous, taking an empty seat at the table.  
“Very well, we can discuss that later.” He turned to the rest of the collective. “Viceroy Gunray, pray continue.”   
“The Hunnite system are happy to secure the deal with you, Count Dooku, and we are willing to pledge our armies to its success,” simpered Nute Gunray, resplendent as always in a sumptuous, bejewelled robe. “However we insist on the capture of that horrible little Senator Amidala before she does more harm with that poisonous tongue of hers. Somehow she has managed to evade all our assassination attempts.”  
So the CLONE were responsible for the Senator’s assassination attempts, thought Obi-wan, glad to have clarity on that point.  
“If you look at clause 334 –89, Viceroy, you will see that the capture and execution of Senator Amidala is one of the priorities upon completion of this treaty,” replied Dooku practically. He could have been discussing the weather so unconcerned was he.  
Hearing Padmé’s death talked about so callously, any remaining, even grudging respect Obi-wan had for Dooku evaporated.  
“We readily accept the terms of your treaty,” said the prestigious Kysic Hunfre of the powerful Kytol clan, “we can assure you that our troops are likewise committed.”  
Around the table, each representative continued in the same vein but Obi-wan had seen enough. He now knew that the CLONE had joined forces with Count Dooku and his separatist movement, an event not anticipated or expected by the Council, who continued to see Dooku as an idealist rather than a warrior with a grudge against the Republic as he increasingly appeared to be. Through Grievous he would already know about the army on Kamino and Obi-wan wondered if the mysterious Lord Tyrannus was actually Dooku, operating under a pseudonym. This is not looking good for the Republic, thought Obi-wan to himself. Getting up, feeling stiff from crouching for too long, the concerned Jedi headed back to his ship, his head full of questions, eager to inform the Council about the new developments.

“Padmé, they’re back,” Beru called gently to the Senator curled up on the couch in the main sitting area.  
The young senator had been daydreaming that she was lost, running up an endless staircase towards the light but never quite reaching it. Anakin’s return was a welcome distraction and she quickly got up, grabbing a shawl and covering her shoulders before hurrying out into the courtyard and up the dusty stairs. Emerging, blinking, into the sunlight, what she saw brought a lump to her throat. At the front of the group, Anakin was walking with grim determination towards the homestead, carrying a human-sized bundle over his shoulders. His face was covered in cuts and bruises but he seemed to have suffered the least. Behind him, a battered and bleeding Owen was supporting a weeping and injured Cleeg and Soll carried awkwardly the heavy and limp body of Gerlin. Nobody spoke as they came into the homestead.

“It must have been a terrible fight.” Beru was doing all she could to stem the bleeding from the deep gash on Cleeg’s leg whilst Padmé stood by with a ready supply of bandages and bacta patches culled from the cruiser’s medi-kit.  
“We lost fifteen men. Luckily we had Anakin,” said Cleeg, gritting his teeth as waves of pain swept over him, “without him, I don’t think any of us would be alive.”  
“You should get that looked at properly,” muttered Owen as he came into the kitchen with a glass of liquor for his father. “Here you go.”  
“These girls are doing a sterling job,” said Cleeg, shooing him away. As Beru laid the bacta onto the gaping wound he sighed, “there, that feels better already.” A large gulp of his drink also did wonders for his pain. “I’m sorry about your uncle,” he said awkwardly to Beru.  
The tears glistened in her eyes, “I worry for my mother. He looked after us when my father died.”  
“If we can do anything,” said Cleeg gently, touching her shoulder affectionately, “let me know.”  
“Thank you.” Beru across towards Padmé, “how’s Anakin?”  
“He seems okay,” remarked Owen, taking over from Beru to give her a break, “but he’s taken a battering as much as we have.”  
Ever since they had got back, Anakin had said very little and remained outside in the scorching midday sunlight whilst the rest of the family retreated inside. Padmé had left him alone, sensing that he needed time to come to terms with the death of his mother.  
“He’ll be suffering in silence.” Cleeg shifted uncomfortably as Padmé started to wind the bandage around his leg, Owen holding the folded pad tightly over the wound. “And I can’t blame him, he came to see his family and he finds this.”  
“I wish we’d found her sooner,” muttered Owen, stepping back now his job was complete. “What happened to them was… was something that should never have happened.”  
“You’re right,” Cleeg took a deep breath, “Those sand people… well they’re not fit to be called people. They’re brutes, filthy disgusting animals.” Angry tears shone in his eyes; he tried to wipe them away but only succeeded in smearing the grease from his fingers across his already grimy face. “I can’t bear to think what they did to her!” Then Cleeg’s face crumpled and he buried his face in his hands, weeping openly.

Coming into the bright sunlight, Padmé had to wait a moment until her eyes adjusted. It was stifling even in the shadow of the stairwell, the suns moving towards their highest point in the stark blue sky, and at first Padmé couldn’t imagine that Anakin was up there. But eventually she found him, staring out towards the horizon, his eyes closed. Wondering if he knew she was there, she called to him, “Anakin?”  
“Yes?” Surprisingly his voice was calm but he did not turn around.  
“Come inside, we need to look at your wounds.”  
“I’m fine.”  
“At least let us clean you up.”  
Finally he turned round and came over to where she waited in the shade. Most of the blood had already gone, leaving only livid cuts; “I cleaned my own face, it’s okay Padmé.”  
She saw his eyes were strangely empty, devoid of any emotion. “Cleeg told us what happened. It must have been terrible.”  
“It was.” He heaved a heavy sigh, “I cannot even begin to describe it to you. I didn’t want to think the stories were true but they live like animals, not people.”  
Padmé wondered if there was anything she could do. “Do you want to talk about it?”  
“Not really,” replied Anakin honestly. It would mean admitting to himself that he had let his anger get the better of him, that he had treated the Tuskens as barbarically as he believed they had treated his mother, that he had spared no-one in his desire for revenge. He could not help feeling that by doing so he had failed everyone who cared about him but above all he had failed himself. “I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, I might have been able to save her, Padmé! But they attacked too quickly.”  
Assuming he meant the sand people, Padmé laid a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Anakin, you did what you could.”  
“No I didn’t,” said the young man in anguish, throwing off her arm and kicking uselessly at the sand beneath his feet. “I didn’t do enough! I should have saved her, but I failed her, Padmé, I failed her.”  
“Anakin, she was dying,” said Padmé, concerned for him. She had never seen him so angry at himself before. “How could you have done more?”  
“I should be able to do more,” muttered the young man, pacing up and down, “I have all this ability but it’s not enough! I’m being held back, I need more power, I need…” and he broke off, unable to stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks.  
“Anakin, stop blaming yourself,” said Padmé, crouching down beside him as he sank down to his knees, his body wracked by violent sobs, “you can’t stop death, no one can.”  
“But I want to,” he said through his tears, “why did she have to die? When she was happy, it doesn’t seem fair!”  
“No it doesn’t,” seeing that he was calming down, Padmé stroked his hair gently, “but at least she had the chance to be happy.”  
“She saw I was a Jedi,” said Anakin, wiping his eyes, remembering the last few precious moments with his mother, “it was the last thing…” Unable to bear the emotions inside him, Anakin covered his face with his hands.

“Oh no, what a mess!”  
Reaching his ship, Obi-wan found that some of the rocks above his starship had destabilised and fallen down. “Has someone been here R4?” he asked the droid but according to R4, the rocks had become dislodged on their own. With no other proof, the explanation would have to suffice, and he set about the unenviable task of removing the shattered lumps from the hull. Worse, upon finishing his task, he found to his consternation that, as well as severe denting to the hull, the long-range transmitter had been damaged. After several frustrated attempts he had to concede that trying to contact Coruscant was impossible. “Blast it! It’s broken, R4,” sighed Obi-wan as the droid dutifully kept trying to contact Coruscant. It was vital that he informed the Council of Dooku’s scheming as soon as possible so that they knew it was not only the CLONE they were up against.  
As he sat there a sudden thought popped into his head. “Wait a minute, maybe we should try Anakin?” Whilst he did not know the exact whereabouts of his padawan, he knew that Anakin had been sent to one of the more remote systems on the fringes of the Outer Rim. The transmitter might be able to reach him and then he could re-send the message to Coruscant. “R4 see if you can track Anakin’s signal.” Every Jedi had a tracking device embedded within their bodies, essential in moments such as this. The droid said it could and after a moment it gave a series of excited bleeps. It had found a connection!  
“You’ve found him? On Tatooine? Why the blazes would the Council send him there?” mused Obi-wan, more to himself than to the droid. “Never mind, there’s no time to worry about that now. R4, transmit this message to Anakin on Tatooine!”

They finished burying Shmi just before the heat of the suns became unbearable.  
“Goodbye, my love,” whispered Cleeg as Anakin shovelled the last mound of sand into the deep grave, clutching in his hands the string of beads that Shmi had liked to wear. He felt them, smooth against his fingers, feeling a connection with the careworn fingers that the beads had slipped through countless times before.  
Owen and Beru stood quietly beside him, thinking about the sad loss that had befallen their lives with Shmi and Beru’s beloved uncle gone. They would always remember Shmi as gentle and cheerful, a bright spark of optimism in the harsh and humdrum life of a moisture farmer on Tatooine.  
Laying down his shovel, Anakin knelt before the grave, his face tense with the effort of keeping his emotions under control. He dug his hands into the sand, feeling its coarseness, its harshness. It was no place for his mother, no place at all. “I failed you,” he whispered to the sand, broken-hearted, “I’m sorry. I won’t ever fail again.”  
Padmé was standing aside from the grieving family. The loss of Shmi for her was great but she was also mourning for Anakin. Finally she had got him to open up a little about his feelings and his words had been filled with concerns about his lack of ability to be the Jedi he wanted to be and the emotions that threatened to overcome his self-control. He had even talked about giving up, although she had urged him not to, feeling he would be better off within the structure of the Jedi Order than cast adrift on his own.

Later in the day they had a visit from a familiar droid who had trundled with difficulty over the desert to reach the homestead. Listening to the frantic bleeps and whirrs Beru, who had been up top when Artoo arrived, realised it was an emergency but struggled to understand. Gesturing for the droid to follow her, she went down to the garage where Anakin was helping Owen to fix one of the speeders, the practical work helping to take his mind off his problems.  
“Is that another of your crazy Jedi ideas?” Owen was saying as she entered the garage, obviously teasing Anakin about something.  
“No, it’s a crazy Coruscant idea,” said Padmé in Anakin’s defence, which made Owen laugh all the more.  
“Then there’s no hope for the poor Republic.  
“You have a visitor,” said Beru loudly, causing them all to look over to her and the droid next to her.  
“It’s Artoo,” said Padmé, coming over to where the droid was anxiously shaking and bleeping.  
“I think it was trying to tell me something,” said Beru, slightly embarrassed, “but I couldn’t understand it.”  
“It’s a message from Obi-wan, it’s urgent,” said Anakin, putting his tools down and looking across to Padmé. “We better get back to the ship.”  
A strong grasp of the Force was not needed for Anakin’s family to know that he and Padmé might not ever return to the humble farmstead and their goodbye was infused with sorrow.  
“I’m sorry Anakin,” said Cleeg, as they made their farewells, “sorry that you had to return under these dreadful circumstances.”  
Clasping his stepfather’s hand, Anakin said with genuine affection, “Thank you for looking after my mother. You made her happier than anybody else could.”  
“It was no trouble. She truly was a most wonderful person.”  
“She was,” said Anakin, but his eyes remained dry. There were no more tears to be shed.  
“Take care of yourself, Anakin,” said Owen warmly, holding out his hand, “and make sure you keep him away from his more crazy ideas, Padmé.”  
“I’ll try,” she said with a grin.  
Taking his hand, Anakin embraced him closely, “Keep well Owen.”  
“Goodbye,” smiled Beru, embracing first Anakin and then Padmé in turn, “Take care of each other.”  
“What did she mean by that?” asked Anakin as they waved goodbye one last time.  
“Oh, just girl’s talk,” replied Padmé, smiling cryptically.

“It’s not a very good signal,” remarked Padmé as they watched the hologram of Obi-wan appear on the console, then flicker and fragment. She pressed numerous switches until the hologram came into clearer focus, and the voice of Obi-wan could be heard with clarity.  
“Anakin… Anakin do you copy? My transmitter’s been knocked out. If you receive this message then re-transmit it to the Council.”  
Glancing with worry at Anakin, Padmé sent the signal through to the Jedi Temple, the message encoded within it. Fortunately the Council were in session and were able to receive her transmission.  
“Greetings Senator Amidala,” said the hologram of Mace Windu, “we believe you have a message for us.”  
“Yes Master Windu, from Master Kenobi. I’m transmitting it to you now.”  
“I have infiltrated the headquarters of the CLONE on Geonosis,” began the hologram of Obi-wan, addressing the occupants of the Naboo cruiser as well as the assembled Council, “and discovered that Count Dooku and his Separatists have joined forces with the CLONE. I found them about to sign a treaty pledging their support. Representatives from most of the inter-planetary Guilds have joined them, all of them intent on… wait a minute…” There was a sound of rocks falling and the hologram fizzled out abruptly.  
“It seems that much has been happening on Geonosis,” frowned Mace Windu, who was beginning to face grave doubts about the ability of the Jedi as to sense anything, “which somehow has escaped our notice.”  
“Count Dooku is certainly more dangerous than we thought,” said Ki adi mundi, who until then had continued to give Dooku the benefit of the doubt. “He must have cloaked their activities in a web of secrecy to confound us. And now he is league with the CLONE he will know about the existence of the Republic’s army!”  
Back in the cruiser, Anakin was more concerned about what had happened to Obi-wan. “Master Windu, I propose that Senator Amidala and I travel immediately to Geonosis to find out what has happened to Master Kenobi. We are not far away.”  
“I would agree with you, Anakin,” said Mace Windu pleasantly, “except for the presence of Senator Amidala. Your priority is to keep her safe and taking her to the headquarters of the known enemy is hardly safe.”  
“I do not think my presence should prevent Anakin from investigating,” said Padmé assertively, seeing the opportunity to take their minds away from the recent traumatic events on Tatooine. “Master Kenobi surely needs our help.”  
“My lady, you forget the danger you are in,” said Windu paternally, seeing her enthusiasm as the usual impetuousness of youth, “you need only concern yourself with your safety. Be assured we will dispatch as soon as possible to find out what has happened to Obi-wan, you need not worry.”  
“Yes Master, we understand,” said Anakin, deciding to comply with the Jedi Council. He did not agree with their decision but wasting time arguing meant it would delay their own progress. “May the Force be with you.” And with Obi-wan, he added, hoping that his Master had only met with a temporary setback.  
“May the Force be with you.” Windu’s hologram faded away.  
Turning back to Padmé, he saw that she was busy reading the navicomp, and appeared to be calculating distances between all the star systems. “We’re not going anywhere,” said Anakin, seeing what she was doing, “You’ll get us both into trouble.”  
“Obi-wan is in danger and you’re just happy to sit here?” There was no way now she was remaining on Tatooine especially now it was tainted with such tragedy; she had had enough of waiting. There must be something they could do. “That doesn’t sound like the Anakin Skywalker I know.”  
He knew that too but so much had changed in the last few days. “Look, Padmé…”  
“Don’t argue,” she protested, pushing him away as he tried to come near the console. “See, we are much closer to Geonosis than Coruscant. Obi-wan might be dead by the time they get there.”  
“But you heard what Master Windu said.” Although he completely agreed with her course of action, he knew that the Jedi Council would expect him to curb her enthusiasm for danger. “Besides we already agreed that…”  
“You told me you didn’t want to come back to Tatooine ever again,” said Padmé, challenging his submissiveness. “Obi-wan is in danger and you’d rather stay here, somewhere you dislike, then try and save him?”  
“Master Windu gave me strict orders,” asserted Anakin, getting irritated by her tactics, “if they want to rescue Obi-wan then we should let them.”  
Why, of all the times Obi-wan needed him the most, did he have to start following orders now? But, she reasoned, it was probably a reaction to the death of his mother. He had been unable to help her and this had provoked a sense of fatalism within the young man. Padmé realised it was her chance to take control, something she relished. “The Jedi Council gave you strict orders to protect me, didn’t they?”   
“Yes,” said Anakin, seeing a mischievous glint in her eyes that could only mean trouble.  
Sitting herself in the pilot’s seat she entered the necessary calculations. “Well, I’m going to rescue Obi-wan so unless you want to stay here alone you’ll have to come with me!”  
“Alright, alright, you win,” Taking the co-pilot’s seat, Anakin had to admit a grudging admiration for her determination. “But this is all your idea, I’m not taking the flack for this!”  
“If it helps I can say that I kidnapped you and kept you in the hold?” grinned Padmé, pleased to finally get her own way. “I can’t believe the rumours were right all along,” she fumed as they streaked away from Tatooine. “The CLONE and the Separatists working together! The Senate is bound to approve the creation of an army now they feel threatened by Count Dooku’s actions. Hopefully we can get to him and try to retain some foresight in this situation.”  
Anakin set the calculations, amused that she was in her element, “Are you suggesting we try to negotiate with him?”  
“Why not?” challenged Padmé, “from the information that Master Obi-wan has given me he is regarded as an upright and commendable Jedi who is merely disillusioned with the Republic as it stands. Obviously he feels that joining with the CLONE will further his cause, which is the part that I do not understand. Surely if he is reasonable…?”  
“I do not think reason comes into it, my lady. Surely if Count Dooku was reasonable he would have taken his objections to the Senate rather than forming an oppositional group?”  
“So you are not of the opinion that he should be allowed back into the Jedi Order?”  
“No my lady, he has betrayed our trust.”  
Padmé looked at him curiously. “Are most of the Jedi of the same opinion as you?”  
“It is the opinion of the Council. Count Dooku has lost much of the support he once enjoyed. Why?” He looked steadily at her, “Did you assume that he would simply be given a slap on the wrist and allowed back into the Jedi fold?”  
“Well, yes,” admitted Padmé, who like many senators suspected that the Jedi, akin to a criminal gang, would tend towards protecting their own above the interests of the Republic.  
“My lady, Count Dooku is a criminal,” said Anakin patiently, “he has betrayed the Republic and has joined forces with those who seek to oppose it. A Jedi’s loyalty is to the Republic. We are its protectors. Count Dooku has renounced his loyalty and so he also renounces his loyalty to the Order.”  
“I still think we should try to reason with him before attempting more aggressive negotiations” said Padmé stubbornly, embarrassed that one of her prejudices had been exposed. “I don’t like the idea, especially since there is only two of us.”


	9. Descent into War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are angry scenes in the Senate when news of the army on Kamino and Count Dooku's alliance with the CLONE becomes public knowledge. After a long and intense debate, the Chancellor is given temporary powers to enable him to act quickly and decisively as the situation demands.
> 
> On Geonosis, Count Dooku tries to convince Obi-wan to join him. When this fails, he tries to convince the newly arrived Senator Amidala to do the same. When she refuses, he decides to execute them both, along with Anakin. When they manage to escape thanks to Anakin's command of the Force, they must fight their way out. Will the Jedi, led by Master Windu, come to their aid in time?

Reactions in the Senate to the knowledge that the CLONE were building an army and had joined forces with Count Dooku had been inflammatory. Angry infighting and name-calling had broken out amongst the senators, leading to uproar. Amidst this, Mas Amadda, stern in his pod, was trying to achieve some semblance of normality, “Order! Order! We must have order!”  
Eventually it died away, and the Chancellor stepped forward. He was exhausted after hours of negotiation and continual stalemate after stalemate, wondering if he should have worked harder to secure his support before he put his proposals to the Senate. But it was too late for that now. “Most merciful and beloved colleagues, we are at a critical time in the history of the Republic. We are beset from all sides; our structures and formalities, which have been established and perfected over thousands of years, are regrettably no longer something which help to protect us but in fact hinder our attempt to deal with the growing menace from the CLONE and the Separatists. Now they are united against us, we are at a greater risk. Although we have the Jedi to protect us, compared to the combined might of the CLONE and the Separatists we have a tenth of their forces. They have thousands upon thousands of troops and the ruthlessness to stop at nothing to achieve their aims.”  
There was only a murmur of dissent this time; his words were finally sinking in, even to those star systems who were opposed to the creation of a larger army.  
Noticing that his console was indicating a deputation of Senators wished to speak, he motioned them forward. “The chair recognises the right of the Petition for A Devoted Leadership to speak.”  
“Senators, fellow delegates,” began Solipo Yeb, who had formed his deputation only recently. “In response to the direct threat from the CLONE and the Confederacy of Independent Systems led by Count Dooku, we propose that in order to counter the stalemate which had characterised our dealings in the Senate of late, emergency powers should immediately be granted to the Chancellor. In this way he can concentrate solely on diminishing the threat that the CLONE and the Separatists present to us. We realise that many of you will be in opposition to this proposal but we beg you to see, esteemed colleagues, how exceptional this stage in history is. The Republic is oppressed in times like this by the very structure established to protect it. How can we protect the Republic from the growing menace when we spend many days debating the minutiae of proposals? Although my colleagues and I resist the evils of war, we have come to realise that in these dangerous times, we must defend ourselves against those that seek to destroy us. My system, like those of Naboo, of Illum to name but two, was forced to defend itself against the CLONE. We learnt than that will alone cannot defeat them! Only strong leadership will return us to the peace that we have enjoyed, to rouse us from our complacency!”  
The Senate was split; even though the dissent was loud and forceful, support for the proposal was equally noisy until Solipo Yeb was quite drowned out.  
“Order!” shouted Mas Amadda, “the Senate will accord our honourable colleague the courtesy of a hearing!”  
“However,” continued Solipo Yeb, once the noise had calmed down once more, “we must insist that once the shadow of war has lifted the power we now give to the Supreme Chancellor will be swiftly, and gladly, returned. We must insist that this will be only a temporary measure, one which will secure the protection of our ancient liberties for a further thousand years!”  
The provisional nature of the proposal seemed to please most of the senators and applause broke out following Solipo Yeb’s eloquent speech. Exhausted, the Senator sat down in his pod, wiping his brow with a white handkerchief. It was up to the Senate now, but before they voted, the Chancellor also made his position clear.  
“It will be with great reluctance,” began Palpatine, “that I will accept a vote of emergency powers in my favour. However, if that is the fate you decide is necessary to meet the great threat faced by the Republic, let me assure you of my honourable intentions. And for those of you wavering in your decision, you know that I have done my utmost to preserve the integrity of the Republic and will continue to do so. I sincerely believe that its ancient foundations must prevail. The fact that the good Senator of Eriadu - whose opinion I have always respected highly – suggests that this crisis is demanding I be given absolute power is telling. But believe me, I have no desire to undermine the ideals under which we have lived peacefully for thousands of years. I promise you that the powers you give me, I will lay down when this crisis has abated.”  
Again, there was applause from the Senate at the Chancellor’s wise and sensible approach to the suggestion of Solipo Yeb. A few senators noted that that Solipo Yeb was a strong supporter of the Chancellor, a few more noticed that Palpatine seemed less reluctant than he made out… in fact he looked extraordinarily unconcerned that he was being given greater powers than anyone in the history of the Republic. But then how could you measure how reluctant someone was? And he was right, they were exceptional times and as such, there was no precedent that could be readily drawn upon.  
Satisfied that his proposal had been presented satisfactorily to the Senate, Mas Amadda asked the Senators to proceed to the vote. “All those in favour of granting emergency powers to the Supreme Chancellor, signal at this time... those opposed?”  
There was much debate within the central pod as the votes were collected and the verdict calculated. Whilst he waited the outcome, Palpatine sat nervously conferring with his surrounding colleagues, the strain on his face evident.

It was an intolerable situation for Obi-wan; not only had he been almost killed by a droid, he was now suspended in some kind of force field underground. There was little to see except for the smooth white walls of his prison and presently no chance of escape. The only hope he had was that someone had managed to pick up his message and was on their way to rescue him, although the odds of that happening were not something he wished to calculate.  
“Oh dear,” came a stately voice from behind him, “I think someone has made a terrible mistake.”  
“Why, Count Dooku.” Obi-wan rotated lazily, unable to move very much. “I wondered when you would have the decency to afford me an explanation for my treatment.”  
“Obi-wan, I really must apologise,” said Count Dooku in disbelief as he came round to face the younger Jedi. “When they told me that they had discovered an espionage agent I did not assume they meant you!”  
“I assure you I am not here to sabotage your facilities.”  
“Then why are you here?” asked Dooku, looking bemused, “Geonosis is not a place one would expect to find a Jedi poking about.”  
“I am investigating the CLONE and my investigations led me here.” Obi-wan wandered how much he should reveal; he did not feel he could trust Dooku in the slightest.  
Count Dooku looked slightly embarrassed. “I assumed you had been sent by the Council. If they have it will be a wasted journey, there are no clones here.”  
Obi-wan was not taken in his by his façade of civility. “Dooku, I hardly believe that your presence here is by coincidence. Not only did I follow the acknowledged leader of the CLONE, General Grievous, to Geonosis, I know that you have signed a treaty with them and are preparing to attack the Republic.”  
Count Dooku sighed. “Master Obi-wan, I respect you as a fellow Jedi but you have woefully little knowledge of the situation as it stands. As I told the Council before I abdicated, I can no longer countenance the travesty that the Republic has become, one of corruption and power rather than a force for good.” He paused for a moment, looking at Obi-wan thoughtfully as he revolved around slowly in the energy field. “Obi-wan, you must know that I value your opinion highly. You were Qui-Gon’s pupil, and he was mine. You feel, as I do, that he was a great leader, an inspirational Jedi to many. Since his passing there has been a light removed from the Jedi, a light which they have fought to regain but it is slowly dying. It is the only way I can explain their most astounding ignorance.”  
“Ignorance?”  
“What if I were to tell you that a Sith Lord hides on Coruscant, controlling the very Republic you seek to defend? That thousands of senators are under his command, willing to carry out his insidious demands?”  
Obi-wan snorted. It seemed preposterous that a Sith Lord could be on Coruscant, right under their noses.   
Seeing his derision, Dooku continued, “I have made it my mission to uncover the machinations that this Sith Lord has entangled the Republic within.”  
“I find it hard to believe you.”  
“It is a pity. Do you really believe that the tottering edifice that is the Republic will be able to survive much longer? It is rotten to its very core; a process that has been slow in the making but it is now coming to its zenith. You will believe me soon enough, Obi-wan, I can promise you.”  
Obi-wan remained silent, thinking about what he was saying. Could it be true?  
“I want to help you Obi-wan,” continued Dooku. “I can reverse the judgement placed upon you by the Genosians but only if you are prepared to renounce your faith in the crumbling Republic and join me in my crusade to make the Galaxy a more secure and just place.”  
“I’ll never join you,” said Obi-wan dismissively. “I would never betray the Council or the Republic as you have. The only crusade I will be joining will be one that seeks to restore faith in the Republic and the ideals it represents.”  
“I am disappointed,” said Dooku, tutting at his folly. “Qui-Gon always spoke very highly of you but I do not see the same as he did. I see a coward who would blindly follow others - and to think that the Council allowed you to train the Chosen One! It is no wonder that the Jedi Council has dwindled in its power. Citizens of the Republic no longer see a vital and energised force for good but a group of old, tired warriors who cling to an aged and stagnant religion. For too long now the Jedi have lost their way.”  
Obi-wan fixed him with a steely eye, “Dooku, the Council was always ready to speak highly of you but all I see is a bitter and devious Jedi who is determined to bring down the very system which made him. I would never join you, so you may as well do with me as you wish.” He was under no illusions that the Jedi Master was about to let him go.  
Count Dooku smiled again, “I can assure you Obi-wan, since you are not willing to cooperate with us that will be our express intention.”

A flashing light on the console indicated that they were coming out of hyperspace. Turning in her seat, Padmé yelled at the top of her voice, “Anakin!”  
Hearing her all the way in the aft section, where he was checking the engines, Anakin rushed back to the cockpit. “What’s the matter?”  
“We’re coming up on Geonosis,” smiled Padmé sweetly.  
“Is that all?” Anakin frowned at her; “You got me running in here, made me all hot and sweaty for that?”  
Padmé knew that it would take more than a short jog to tire out a Jedi. “I need you to help me land.”  
He fell into his seat, sneaking a smug grin in her direction. “Did they not teach you that on Naboo?”  
“It takes two,” she shot back, “besides we work better when we work together.”  
As the engines slowed and the long streaks of starlight returned to normality, they could finally see the planet of Geonosis looming into view. The surface, from their perspective, was uniform ochre, barren and uninviting.  
“Great, another Tatooine,” grunted Anakin after Padmé read the description to him, adjusting their course slightly as they flew tightly through the planet’s rings.  
“There’s no sign of any energy field affecting our descent,” said Padmé, reading the console in front of her, “but there’s huge life readings, and evidence of technology, which is interesting. I suggest that we carry on down and find somewhere out of the way to land.”  
“Good, the last thing we want to do is to attract attention.” Anakin was determined to let the Senator call all the shots this time, allowing her the mantle of responsibility.  
As they navigated successfully through the thin atmosphere, they plunged immediately into a dense cloud. Descending closer towards the surface, as the fighter skimmed just above the revealed rocky terrain, it became apparent that the landscape was unusually pierced, at conveniently uniform intervals, by jets of thick, greyish vapour that streamed upwards from openings in the ground. As the fighter flew onwards, the cloud density created by the vapour increased until it was impossible to see much further than a few feet in front of the spacecraft and navigation was only made possible via the ship’s complex array of sensors.  
“Is the atmosphere breathable?”  
“There are a high percentage of metals and oxide compounds associated with industrial workings.” Padmé frowned slightly, “but since we will only be exposed to them for a small amount of time, we should be okay.”  
“I’ll take your word for it,” said Anakin, looking at the monitor. “I think we should take advantage of those steam columns to land in.”  
“Great idea,” said Padmé. “Which one?”  
“Oh I don’t know,” replied Anakin, “if I choose you’ll only disagree with me.”  
“Don’t be so cheeky,” she admonished, “let’s just land this thing shall we?”  
Together they landed the starship skilfully at the edge of one of the vapour columns, but before he had even switched off the engines, Anakin saw that Padmé was already pulling on her coat, a determined expression on her face.  
“Padmé,” he said, firmly, coming over to her, “you do know what you are doing, don’t you?”  
“I’m not going to discuss this in committee, Anakin,”replied the Senator with determination. “We’re going to find Master Kenobi.”  
He followed her out of the cockpit, “You have a plan, don’t you?”  
“Not as such,” she admitted, opening a cabinet in the wall to reveal a range of weapons. Selecting one she turned back to the Jedi, “I thought we could make it up as we go along.”  
It was not the response he had been hoping for, but at least she was honest. “We need to be careful, it’s likely whoever lives here is already tracking us.”   
Stepping out of the ship, immediately the pair were hit by a noxious smell of heavy chemical pollution which made them both cough violently.  
“We need to get inside,” said Anakin, his voice muffled by his cape which afforded some small protection against the heavy atmosphere.  
Jogging through the clouds of mist that hung over the rocky landscape they soon came across a large rock formation; staring down at them were the blank eyes of what appeared to be a humanoid head atop the body of a four legged animal. Although the expression on its face was benign, sharp claws extended from its padded feet and wings were folded upon its back suggesting a creature to inspire as much fear as awe. Carved out of the rock, the statue guarded the entrance to a long dark tunnel that disappeared into the bowels of the earth.  
“I think we should try in here,” said Anakin, eager to get out of the miasma.  
“I think the inhabitants of this planet must live underground,” remarked Padmé as they headed into the tunnel. Soft light filtered down into the tunnel from hidden shafts in the walls, making it possible to just make out more towering statues placed at intervals along the walls. They were creatures of many different types, some holding weapons and some holding tools or symbols that could only be relevant to the planet’s inhabitants. The eerie atmosphere created by the statues was only broken by the steady plop of dripping water and despite Anakin’s wish, the air was not much better inside; dank and clammy it wound its way into their lungs and froze there.  
“It’s amazing,” whispered Padmé, fascinated by the carefully carved figures, in various states of decay because of the continual moisture, but showing the evidence of their workmanship in what was left of the lifelike drapes and lively expressions. “What do you think they are for?”  
“I don’t know,” said Anakin, “possibly for worship or to represent the inhabitants of the planet? Anyway, you need to pay more attention to where this tunnel leads,” he scolded as she dawdled beside one of the statues, “it looks like it opens out ahead.”  
Keeping close to the wall, they inched their way along, being careful not to step into one of the many puddles. Seeing all the water, Padmé was confused. “Why is it so dry on the surface if there’s so much water down here?”  
“Maybe it’s not water,” guessed Anakin, geography not really being one of his strong points.   
She looked dubious. “It looks like water.”  
“Well are you going to try it?” he asked in exasperation; when she glared at him, he smiled, “Didn’t think so.”  
Eventually they found themselves at the end of the tunnel where it opened out into a gigantic cavern. Even Anakin was impressed by what they found; the chamber was supported by tall columns, their bases and supports carved with intricate shapes and foliage, filling the chamber with the untrammelled riot of an artists’ imagination. Carved into the wall between the columns were small niches, each holding its own statue. Like the corridor, everything was in a state of decay, dripping with moisture and shining with a peculiar intensity in the half-light.  
“What is this place?” asked Padmé who had wondered a little way from Anakin to have a closer look.   
“Shush, not so loud,” he commanded, gesturing her to move closer towards one of the columns. “Wait here whilst I have a look around.”  
Annoyed at his tone, Padmé had no such intention. As Anakin disappeared down one of the smaller side corridors that branched off from the chamber, she wandered around to inspect the statues ensconced in their niches. As with the statues in the entrance corridor they were of unfamiliar creatures, yet all of them carried tools or weapons of some description. “Obviously civilised,” the young Senator muttered to herself.  
There came a sudden scuffling sound from one of the corridors behind her, then the sound of hurried footsteps heading back to the main chamber.  
“Anakin…?” he was obviously up to some mischief and she turned round, expecting to see... What she did see made her gasp in fear. Anakin was pelting towards her, followed by twenty or so armed humanoids, all of them brandishing fierce looking weapons.  
“Watch out!” he yelled, gesturing madly towards her.  
Before Padmé could react, she felt herself being seized from behind. “Let go of me!” Angrily, Padmé managed to pull herself from the creature’s grasp, spiralling away and colliding with Anakin who had finally reached her. Breathless, she grabbed hold of him and clung to him tightly.  
“Are you alright?” He put his arm about her waist to steady her, thinking it was a funny time for her to suddenly become keen on him.  
“Yes.” She stayed close to him; although the humanoids had stopped some distance away she was not taking any chances. “Shall we make a run for it?” she whispered anxiously, her hand on her blaster.  
“We can try.” Anakin felt a niggling feeling at the back of his mind, “But you’ll find that we are surrounded.”  
“How very perceptive of you, young Skywalker,” said a deep and booming voice seemingly from nowhere.  
“Count Dooku,” breathed Anakin, letting go of Padmé and putting his hand onto his lightsaber in readiness.  
Startled, Padmé looked at him in alarm, “Where?”  
“Behind us.” As they turned round, they saw coming towards them across the vast chamber a tall and imposing man. Dressed in a variation on the standard Jedi robes in dark blue and gold, the whiteness of his hair and the lines on his face seemed incongruous to the strength and power he radiated.  
Reaching them, Count Dooku bowed courteously. “Anakin Skywalker, how pleasant of you to visit us here on Geonosis. I have been watching your progress with interest.”   
Keeping his hand on his lightsaber, Anakin wondered what Dooku was up to. All his instincts told him that there was some sinister meaning to Dooku’s civil behaviour. “As we have been watching yours, Count.”  
Hearing the barb in the young man’s reply, Dooku smiled. “And who is this with you? Why, Senator Amidala, one of the few voices of reason left in the Senate. It is wonderful to meet you finally in person.”  
“I assume you are Count Dooku?” said Padmé, drawing herself up to her full height. She was considerably shorter than the Jedi but she more than made up for her lack of inches with the determination in her expression.  
“The one and same.” Dooku bowed politely; eyeing the young Senator with an air of careful interest, “Tell me, what can I do for you both?”  
“We believe you are holding a Jedi Master here against his will,” said Padmé boldly, “and we have come to secure his release.”  
“I see.” Count Dooku considered her statement for a moment, “I find the air here is not conducive to persons such as you and I. If you would like to come this way, we can discuss this in more pleasant surroundings. You may bring your Jedi protector with you, if you wish.”  
“I do wish.” She glanced at Anakin, who looked back at her impassively. It was not the moment to reveal his feelings about the situation.  
“But I will have to ask you to hand over your weapons, we can’t possibly conduct negotiations until I have secured your compliance with this request.”  
Padmé readily handed over her blaster, prepared to do what was necessary to open negotiations for Obi-wan. She looked at Anakin with impatience; he seemed to be less amenable to Dooku’s suggestion. Admittedly it was hard for him to part with his lightsaber but he could little alternative in the circumstances.  
“Thank you.” His face an expression of complete detachment, Dooku indicated that they should follow him into the complex of tunnels. “I would be pleased if you would follow me Senator Amidala to where we can discuss the fate of your Jedi friends.”  
Padmé frowned, surely he didn’t mean in the plural?  
“Hey…” said Anakin suspiciously as his arms were grabbed roughly from behind and felt the restraints being placed onto his wrists. It was becoming clear that Dooku was not the honourable gentleman he sought to portray; this made him concerned for Padmé but there was little he could do, she had insisted on her course of action and they had to see it through.  
“Count Dooku is it really necessary to treat your Jedi colleague in this manner?” said Padmé, the tension creeping into her voice. “He understands that…”  
“It is necessary Senator,” said Count Dooku unquestionably, “unless you wish to suspend negotiations entirely?”  
“No,” said Padmé quickly, hoping that Anakin would not mind some slight discomfort in return for Obi-wan’s safety.  
“I see you are prepared to reasonable, my lady, as a true politician should be. Unlike our friends the Jedi,” Dooku looked more darkly at the young man beside her, all pretence at friendliness disappearing, “Come along then. I look forward to hearing your proposals.”

Despite the ancient construction of the underground chambers, their walk with Dooku revealed that a more modern complex had been constructed deeper beneath the surface. Through white panelled corridors they followed the brooding former Jedi until they were lead into a large conference chamber. There, Padmé faced Count Dooku across a large table, trying to steady her growing nerves. Anakin was stood behind her, his arms forced stiffly behind his back by the restraints. He was tense, focused on keeping his mind calm, but he could not help looking at his lightsaber lying on the table just out of reach with Padmé’s blaster.  
Count Dooku sat calmly on the opposite side of the table flanked by a group of the armed Geonosians, CLONE troops and intimidating battle droids. To the left of the table stood a more terrifying prospect, the tall and cloaked cyborg leader of the CLONE, his malevolent yellow eyes keeping a close watch on procedures.  
Aren’t you supposed to be dead? thought Anakin as he looked across at Grievous. The General only stared back at him, his yellow eyes emotionless.  
“We have come here on behalf of the Galactic Republic,” said Padmé to Count Dooku, concentrating on the matter foremost in her mind. “You are holding the Jedi Knight, Obi-wan Kenobi, hostage. We formally request that you hand him over to us now.”  
“I am afraid that I cannot do that, my lady. He has been convicted of espionage and is due to be executed.”  
“He is a Jedi and an Officer of the Republic,” said Padmé keeping her voice calm, “you cannot do this. How will you justify your actions?”  
“I expected more of you, Senator Amidala. You really are quite unable to grasp the realities of the situation are you? I thought you might have realised that we don’t recognise the Republic here so our actions do not have to be justified by your definitions. Here we are operating under Geonosian law and the Geonosians are quite adamant that Obi-wan is a criminal and is to be executed.”  
“And you are quite happy for this travesty of justice to continue?” Padmé was aghast. Despite what Anakin had told her, she had been secretly clinging to the notion that Count Dooku was an idealist, someone who was disillusioned by the Republic but still a believer in the principles of the Jedi Order. But here he was quite content to allow a fellow Jedi to be executed. It made her realise the futility of her plan and she wished, belatedly, that she had come up with a Plan B.  
“Now, if Naboo were to join our Alliance,” said Dooku, showing perfect white teeth, the sharp canines glistening in the light, “I could be persuaded to exercise my authority and ask the Geonosians to show Master Kenobi some clemency.”  
“You know we cannot presume to make such a decision without the agreement of our people.” Listening to Dooku’s justification for Obi-wan’s murder, Padmé felt her emotions rising in chest but she damped them down. “What if they don’t want to join your rebellion?”   
“I would not want you or Naboo to join our cause without free will, Senator Amidala, but be assured that we are more serious about this matter than a mere rebellion.” He studied her for a moment. “I have followed your career in the Senate and I see that you are, on the whole, an honest and rational representative of your people. I assume that you, like the systems who have already joined our cause, are always prepared to act in their best interests. Surely like us you are tired of the corruption and the endless bureaucracy that has turned our once proud Republic into a playground for the rich and powerful? Are you not disillusioned with the hypocrisy and the cynicism exhibited by our politicians?”  
“I would be more comfortable with your actions, Count Dooku, if you had not joined forces with the CLONE,” replied Padmé assertively, “the very organisation who has in the past threatened and invaded my home, Naboo. I cannot help but think if you were serious about tackling the greed and corruption within the Republic, you would have used everything at your disposal to defeat it from within the Republic, not joining with those who would seek to destroy it. The ideals are still alive even if the Republic has lost its way.”  
Dooku seemed flustered by her words, “Senator, you have the wrong opinion of the CLONE. On the contrary, we believe in the same ideals as you; justice, stability and equality for the citizens of the Galaxy. We only feel that the structures of the Republic are too cumbersome and outdated to achieve these aims.”  
Despite her optimism of striking a deal fading by the moment, Padmé pressed on her with her purpose, “With respect, you have not answered my question, Count Dooku. If you desire the same things then why did you not remain in the Republic and seek to reinstate these ideals we share? To help Chancellor Palpatine and the reformers?”  
Count Dooku rose from his seat, pacing the floor to give weight to his words. “My dear Senator, the Chancellor has had five years to put things right as he promised when he was elected. He promised to cut the bureaucracy but it has increased ten-fold; he promised to make the tax and trade system more equitable but has faced unprecedented delays in the legislature. The Senate is racked by infighting and political careerists. They are more concerned with their campaigns than acting in the best interests of the Republic. My lady, the Chancellor has been given ample chance to steer the Republic towards a glorious future but we have ended up mired in protocol and greed.”  
“He has certainly not been helped…”  
“Surely you must see that the Republic is a front for the vociferous and grasping actions of an interested minority,” continued Dooku, determined to finish his tirade, “masquerading under the ideals of liberty and justice.”  
“No, I do not agree,” said Padmé heatedly. “There are plenty of star systems in the Republic that are committed to peace and justice. You have done more to undermine the structure of the Republic with your connections to the CLONE, the perpetrators of a bloody and extensive campaign to destroy peace in our time. We are aware that you have signed a treaty with the armies of the disgraced star systems and with the Inter-planetary Guilds who oppose all liberty and justice in their attempts to ensure maximum profit!”  
“But by your opposition my lady, you show your willing to betray your Jedi friends for the sake of a system that has been failing for the last twenty years,” smiled Dooku evilly. “I admire your tenacity Senator Amidala but by shunning cooperation you place yourself in a very difficult position.” Dooku studied her face carefully, “Surely you have wondered who is so determined to end your life? What if I were to tell you that they are here on this planet?”  
Padmé’s face betrayed the tiniest flicker of emotion, noticeable only to a Jedi. “Then I will do all I can to bring them to justice.”  
“But my lady, as I said before we operate under Geonosian law here. And, as much I would like to assist you, you will find that those who wish for your… extermination are unrelenting. Unless you agree with their demands, I can do nothing for you.”   
Seeing that Dooku was not prepared to agree to her demands either, Padmé took refuge in stubbornness. “We will not compromise our position, Count Dooku.”  
“Then I will have no alternative then to hand you over to the Geonosians and their justice system. I am sorry, my lady.”  
“You call this justice?” asked Padmé quietly.  
“You know full well Senator that even the Republic must respect the different definitions of justice that exist within this Galaxy.” Turning to the cyborg, Dooku waved at the Senator dismissively, “Take the Senator away immediately, and the Jedi.”  
“With pleasure my Lord.” He glared at the two prisoners with his disgusting yellow eyes. “So we finally meet, the Senator who takes the name of her dead Queen.”  
“I thought you killed him?” remarked Padmé as soon as Anakin was in earshot.   
“So did I!”  
“No talking,” growled the cyborg, brandishing his electro-staff menacingly.  
They were marched brusquely away from the meeting chamber and down another dank, musty smelling corridor.  
Ignoring the General’s threat, Padmé bristled with indignation, “I can’t believe he could be so unreasonable.”  
“Don’t worry,” said the Jedi quietly, “I’m not going to say I told you so.”  
Padmé looked at him sharply. “But you are going to say it was a waste of time?”  
“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think it was anything to do with your negotiations. It’s too convenient. I think he planned this all along.”  
“Keep quiet,” demanded the General, stalking behind them on his strange robotic claws.  
Padmé looked at Anakin, it confirmed her own suspicions; “We walked into a trap?” she said under her breath.  
“It appears so...”  
“Silence!” croaked General Grievous, slamming his electro-staff hard across Anakin’s shoulders; somehow the Jedi managed to remain upright.  
Shooting a dirty look at Grievous over her shoulder, Padmé did not try to speak to Anakin again. Their only remaining hope was the arrival of the expected Jedi force. But that begged another question… where was Obi-wan?

Despite a long and subjective hearing in the Genosian court, Anakin and Padmé still barely understood the charges that were levelled against them. It was something to do with suspected sabotage and the kidnapping of a lawful prisoner, which they vehemently protested against but to no avail. Their fate was decided brutally and efficiently; death by execution. Force-marched down a series of long corridors, their guards found plenty of opportunity to bruise and mistreat the furious Senator and the taciturn Jedi as they were led towards a holding cell.  
As the heat of her anger faded away, Padmé began to have more morbid thoughts. “I wonder what they are going to do to us?”  
“Let’s not think about that now.” Anakin hoped Padmé was not losing her fighting spirit, they would both need more than strength to stand a chance of getting out alive.  
Eventually they reached the hallway that led to the detention area; both prisoners were scanned and processed, then led through a network of corridors to a series of chambers protected by ray shields. Inside could be seen other declared enemies of the Genosians, condemned to a similar fate as they. Bundled into one of the cells, the ray shield shimmered into place and they were finally alone. Immediately as the guards disappeared, they both set about looking for a means of escape but a cursory glance of the bare cell informed both of them that there was little hope of this need being satisfied.  
“I guess we’re stuck here.”  
“Great.” Overcome with stress and exhaustion, Padmé sank to the floor, clutching her knees to her chest.  
Her fear was palpable and he went and crouched down beside her. “Don’t be afraid. We’ll find a way out, we always do.”  
“I’m not afraid to die,” said Padmé fiercely, but her lip trembled.  
“Then what is it?”  
“Nothing.” Refusing to look at him, she hugged her knees closer. “I hope Master Kenobi is still alive after all this trouble we’ve gone to for him.”  
“Don’t worry, he’s alive.”  
“He is?”  
“I can feel his presence here… somewhere.” With little else to do, he lay down on the floor his head cushioned against his arms. “We just have to wait.”  
“For what?”  
“Until he shows up, whenever that will be.” Anakin grinned at her, “But I’m certain of one thing.”  
“What’s that?”  
“He’ll be in a bad mood.”  
“Can you imagine his face when he sees us?”  
Screwing up his face tightly, Anakin did a passable imitation of a stern Obi-wan expression.  
She finally smiled, “Not cross enough.”  
“Okay.” He tried again, contorting his face into more and more absurd configurations until she exploded with laughter and he, unable to keep a straight face much longer, joined in with her. It was infectious, artless, a release. Neither of them had laughed in so long, for so long. Eventually, worn out and breathless, they lay beside each other on the cold floor.  
My mother is dead and I’m laughing… Anakin knew he was teetering on the edge of reason; already the grief was overwhelming him again. He had to keep busy but now there was nothing left to occupy his mind except their own impending death.  
As she calmed down, Padmé realised that something deep within her heart had snapped. There were many things she struggled with still but his proximity to her, her fears, their almost certain death convinced her now was the time to tell him what was on her mind, “Anakin, I…”  
At that moment the ray shield opened and a third captive was thrown into the cell. It was an understatement to say that Obi-wan was surprised to see them both.  
“Hello Master,” said Anakin as though they were meeting in the Jedi Temple corridor by accident. “Surprised to see us?”  
“Of course. What are you both doing here?” He eyed them both suspiciously. “I thought you were on Tatooine?”  
“It’s a long story,” replied Padmé, thinking it best not to dwell on the details.  
“So you received my message?” Obi-wan asked eagerly, for once more concerned about that then any transgressions on Anakin’s part.  
“Yes, Master,” said Anakin. “We retransmitted it to Coruscant as you requested, then Padmé decided to come and rescue you.”  
“You didn’t exactly dissuade me,” protested Padmé, shoving him in annoyance.  
“Yes I did,” he retorted, frowning at her, “I seem to remember giving the responsibility over to you...”  
“Alright you two,” Obi-wan wasn’t in the mood for bickering, “I feel I must commend you both on the marvellous job that you are doing.”  
“There was not much else we could do, Count Dooku was not overly amenable to negotiating for your release.”  
“I could have told you that if only you’d thought to come and ask me.” But Obi-wan was oddly grateful that he was no longer alone in his predicament. “So let’s assume getting captured by Dooku was all part of your plan. What happens next?”  
“There’s no way of getting out of here,” pointed out Anakin, still lying down on the hard floor.  
“And we don’t have any weapons,” said Padmé miserably.  
“Come on, it isn’t like you two to give up,” Obi-wan said, joining them on the floor.   
“We haven’t given up, just temporarily run out of options.”  
“Then I suggest that we get some rest.”  
“So we can be fresh for our execution?” said Anakin.  
“That’s the idea. We may find that a solution presents itself when we least expect it.” With that, Obi-wan promptly closed his eyes.

“Get up!”  
Jolted awake, Anakin opened his eyes. “What?” But instead of the expected face of his Master, he saw an electro-spear’s sharp tip wavering close to his chest. Hurriedly, Anakin got to his feet, feeling horribly stiff after lying on the floor. He saw that Padmé and Obi-wan were also on their feet, their hands bound. Grabbing his hands roughly, the guard forced them into similar restraints and pushed him over towards the others.  
“Are you alright, Anakin?” asked Obi-wan. Stay alert, there may be a chance to escape.  
“Never better.” I’ll feel much better when I get my lightsaber back.  
You and me both.  
They were led out of the detention area and deeper into the bowels of the underground complex. Here, as in the detention block, the walls and floor were lined with pristine white panels, reflecting the artificial lighting so severely that it was enough to give the three captives a headache. Yet Anakin was feeling hopeful; Obi-wan had been right, getting some sleep had been a good idea and, although recent events still preyed on his mind, fortunately he had not been subjected to further dreams. As they walked along, he made a careful note of every door, every possible escape route.  
Good Anakin, nice to see some optimism.  
His Master’s thoughts intruded into his mind unexpectedly and he looked sharply at him, Someone has to be.  
Seeing the looks between the padawan and his Master, Padmé wondered what they were thinking. “What is it?” she whispered to Anakin.  
“No talking!” demanded the guard, poking her with his staff for good measure.  
Well done, Anakin. Obi-wan looked sympathetically at the Senator.  
It wasn’t my fault! He felt terrible enough without further censure.  
Eventually they were led from the corridor into a massive chamber which had the air of a lecture theatre with rows of seats and a lectern stood at the far end. Behind the lectern there was an enormous window, looking into another room that was empty except for three tall chairs, restraining straps on each of them. Droids and Geonosians scurried around this space, checking the instruments on a control panel and making final preparations.  
Immediately Padmé paled, “I thought these practices had been outlawed!”  
“There is much hidden from the eyes of the Republic it seems,” muttered Obi-wan, equally dismayed by the sight before them.  
“What is it?” asked Anakin, who had never seen anything like it before.  
“You’ll find out soon enough,” replied Obi-wan, turning as a door opened smoothly behind them.  
“I don’t like the sound of that,” he muttered.  
“Good morning.” Into the chamber walked Count Dooku, followed by the creeping General Grievous and the creepy Nute Gunray. With them was a large entourage of hangers-on and those devoted to the demise of the Republic: Wat Tambor, encased in his fearsome pressure suit; capricious Passel Agente and the arrogant Rune Haako were the more notable amongst them. As former senators, Padmé regarded them with contempt; all of them she knew would sell their homeworld for the transient pleasures of power and glory.  
The spectators took their seats and the three captives were led to the front of the chamber to face them. Stepping up to the lectern, the Archduke of Geonosis, Poggle the Lesser, proceeded to outline in long and tedious detail the supposed crimes committed by the three criminals before them. When he finally got round to the sentence, he pronounced that because of the terrible and serious nature of the crimes the method of execution would be a slow and painful suffocation. Effectively they would be gassed to death.  
“I am sorry it has come to this,” said Dooku, having the temerity to regard them all sadly. “It is regrettable that the Republic is to lose three of its staunchest supporters.”  
“This isn’t the last you’ll see of us, Dooku,” predicted Obi-wan as they were led into the ominous chamber with the three chairs. None of them had been given an opportunity to speak in their own defence, reflecting the travesty of the justice system on Genonsis.  
Dooku only chuckled. “Hopeful to the last. Such a shame it is misplaced, don’t you think General?”  
“This time we will crush their insubordination,” said the General victoriously “and soon the rest of their repulsive Order will fall with them.”  
“Indeed.” Dooku watched impassively for a moment as the two Jedi and young Senator were strapped securely into their chairs. “Viceroy, I imagine you are staying to watch?”  
“Of course my lord,” sneered the Viceroy, rubbing his hands gleefully at the thought of Senator Amidala’s death. Now there was no escape for her. “Are you not?”  
“Executions are always… rather distasteful,” said Dooku loftily, “but I trust you will enjoy it.” And taking Grievous with him, Dooku swept from the room.  
Dooku’s going said Anakin to Obi-wan as the last restraining strap was pinned securely around his forehead.  
That makes our job a little easier.  
So what do you have in mind…?  
Finally the last modifications were made and everyone except the captives left the chamber, securing the door behind them. The three of them sat stiffly in the chairs, only able to look forwards as tight straps across their heads prevented them from seeing anything to the side. More straps bound their legs and arms. To the front of them was the huge window, beyond that the eager spectators.  
“Padmé.” Obi-wan’s voice sounded very loud in the quiet chamber, “When the vents open I want you to hold your breath for as long as you can.”  
“Yes, Master Kenobi,” replied Padmé quietly. She was terrified.  
As optimistic as he was, Anakin still wondered if it were to be the last time he would ever hear her voice.  
A hissing sound indicated that they were starting to fill the chamber with gas; immediately the three captives sucked in as much untainted air as they could. 

“How long will it take?” asked Dooku as he walked down the corridor with General Grievous and the Archduke, his heels clicking smartly on the floor.  
“Not long,” assured the Archduke in the complex Geonosian language, “depending on their constitution it could be a matter of minutes.”  
“I doubt the Jedi will let this go,” Dooku’s face betrayed none of his feelings on the matter, “we must be ready.”  
And together they headed towards the hangars.

It was not long before their lungs began to feel the strain. Without the benefit of Jedi training, Padmé quickly began to struggle and despite her efforts, she was forced to take a breath to relieve the pressure. Immediately she did so, she felt her throat constricting as the gas poured in. Fighting to breathe she felt her head begin to swim and her vision blurring.  
Hearing her gasping for breath, Anakin felt powerless, unable to let go of his own focus in case he too succumbed, unable to do anything because of the tight restraints. His hands twisted in the binders yet they were designed with such intentions in mind and refused to budge.  
There was no use in fighting, she could no longer find the strength. Her breath became increasingly shallow and as she felt the darkness claim her, her last thought was that Anakin and Obi-wan would somehow escape to tell the Republic about the perfidy of Dooku and his supporters. And with final gasp of sullied air, Padmé slumped forward in her seat, caught only by the restraints around her.  
On the other side of the window, Nute Gunray gleefully punched the air. Finally the troublesome Senator was silenced.  
No, not Padmé! Anakin felt the heat rise in his head as he saw the evident pleasure on the Viceroy’s face. That as much as he lived, Padmé was dying.  
Concentrate, Anakin! Obi-wan could sense that his padawan was becoming distracted.  
Something was happening to the window. As his anger against the Viceroy intensified, it started to buckle and bulge inwards as if it were water he was stirring with his fingers. Somehow he was manipulating it with his mind; but he was not focusing his power, it was happening despite him.  
Beside him, Obi-wan watched in amazement as the window appeared to liquefy and ripple, feeling the strength of Anakin’s power, the turbulence he had created in the toughened glass. Seeing a chance to escape, he channelled his own mind with Anakin’s endeavour until the window finally reached breaking point. Spectacularly it shattered into thousands upon thousands of fragments which showered the two chambers. There was immediate panic as the spectators tried to escape the effects of the gas now pouring into their chamber, and sirens started their thin wail as the Geonosian aides tried to remedy the situation by turning off the gas.  
Air rushed into the execution chamber, dispelling the choking gas. Both Jedi thankfully opened their overloaded lungs, gulping in the now breathable air with ragged gasps.  
“How did you… do that Anakin?” Obi-wan sounded shaky.  
“I don’t know.” It was an honest answer; there was something about his power that surprised even him.   
“Whatever you did, it worked,” said Obi-wan grimly. He had managed to wrestle one hand free from the restraints, was working on the other.  
“How are we going to get out of these?” Anakin’s restraints remained stubbornly tight.  
“Calm yourself Anakin,” said Obi-wan, “remember, concentration, not agitation.”  
Breathing deeply, Anakin relaxed his shoulders, and concentrated again on twisting the restraining straps. This time they snapped open. However there was little time to celebrate, he dived out of the way just before a stream of laser headed towards him, fizzing against the back of the chair.   
Battle droids were pouring into the front chamber, although the spectators, their legs if not their reason recovered, had run screaming for the exit like the cowards they were, afraid of the destructive power of the Jedi. Picking himself up from the floor Anakin flung out his hand and threw several of the droids so forcefully against the wall that they smashed into pieces. Grabbing a fallen blaster, he positioned himself between his companions and the exit, “Hurry, Master!”  
Having freed himself, Obi-wan was busy checking Padmé’s pulse. “Come on, Padmé.”  
“How is she?” asked Anakin over the noise of the firing and the sirens, blasting another two droids into smithereens.  
“She’s okay, I’ve got a pulse,” said Obi-wan with relief, “it’s faint, but she’s alive.”  
“Thank the Force,” murmured Anakin under his breath.  
Breaking open her restraints, Obi-wan picked Padmé up carefully in his arms and hurried over to where Anakin was surveying the droid carnage. He had finally defeated all that had been sent for the time being but he expected there would soon be more of them.  
“Well done,” Obi-wan patted his arm.  
“Here.” Anakin handed Obi-wan a blaster. “You might need this.”  
Obi-wan pulled a face, “Haven’t you anything more civilised?”  
“Come on, we better go before more of these appear.”  
“Before we go, you better take Padmé.”  
Hoisting the unconscious girl over his shoulder, Anakin regarded his Master impatiently. “Can we get out of here now?”  
“Patience,” said Obi-wan, threading his way through the scattered bits of droid to the exit. “We don’t want to rush things.”

“What is this dreadful racket about?” asked Count Dooku as he and General Grievous hurried back down the corridor, their departure plans delayed.  
“My lord, we have a very small problem,” wheedled the General, “there are reports coming from corridor six twenty five that the Jedi have escaped. I have sent two squadrons after them.”  
“Two squadrons won’t be enough, you should have sent more you idiot,” grunted Dooku, wondering how the Jedi had managed to escape. “We can’t let them leave the complex, you must ensure that, Grievous.”  
“Yes my lord,” replied Grievous, “I can assure you that the only Jedi that leaves here will be a dead Jedi.”  
“Good, good, then see it done,” Dooku was in no mood for the General’s vain comments; he knew that Kenobi was a wily one. And mentored by his former padawan; it was too ironic for words.  
“My Lord,” an aide came dashing around the corridor, skidding to a halt just in front of the Count and the General. “The Jedi have landed on Geonosis!”

Relying on their borrowed blasters, Obi-wan and Anakin were making their way towards the upper levels of the complex. Although they had encountered high numbers of battle droids, they were little match for the two Jedi who had an arsenal of techniques alongside the more clumsy blasters. However, they knew that if they encountered Dooku or Grievous they would be woefully unprepared.  
“Look Master,” with Padmé slung over his shoulder, Anakin was looking at a scattering of droid parts across the corridor, “here’s another one.”  
“It looks like Jedi work alright,” pondered Obi-wan, picking up a droid arm and examining it. The broken joint was too cleanly sliced to have been made by blasters.  
“Master Windu must have finally made it!” Although they hadn’t run into any Jedi yet, neither had they found any dead Jedi.  
“Let’s hope so, come on!”

The complex was descending into chaos as more and more Jedi spilled into the labyrinthine corridors, eager to reveal the exact dimensions of their former colleague’s perfidy. Skirmishes between the seemingly endless supplies of droids built by the Geonosians were inevitable and soon the corridors rang to the sound of laser fire and lightsaber hum.  
Running down the corridor at the head of a group of Jedi including Plo Koon and Agen Kolar, Master Windu was the epitome of the Jedi’s determination to release their colleague trapped somewhere in the steadfast of the CLONE. So far they had met only limited resistance from the CLONE and it was causing some concern considering the aggressive reputation of their adversary.  
“I wonder why they are holding back,” asked Bariss Offee, her dark cloak, embroidered with mystic Jedi symbols, flowing about her as she ran.  
“Maybe they have a surprise planned,” remarked Mace without a trace of humour.   
“Just when we want to leave,” added Agen Kolar, smiling at Bariss.  
“I was afraid you might say that,” she muttered ruefully.  
Windu’s comlink bleeped softly, “Yes?”  
“Master Windu,” said the unmistakable voice of Shaak Ti, “we have found Obi-wan.”

Obi-wan and Anakin had come across Masters Shaak Ti and Stass Allie battling with a large squadron of CLONE troops and droids in the next corridor up. Between the skilfully wielded lightsabers and the skilfully, but reluctantly, used blasters, the Jedi quickly dispatched most of the droids, Shaak Ti chasing the last remnants as they fled towards the elevators and obliterating them before they could call for reinforcements.  
“Master Obi-wan,” Stass Allie greeted the two Jedi, her deep blue eyes sparkling with some inner luminescence, “we are glad to see you.”  
Obi-wan looked embarrassed, “I hope all this wasn’t for me?”  
“Who else?” grinned Stass.  
“We didn’t know you had company,” added Shaak Ti as she joined them, looking in askance at Anakin. He was kneeling beside the still immobile Senator, touching her forehead gently as if to will her back into consciousness.  
“Neither did I,” said Obi-wan ruefully, “but I was glad of it.”  
“Is the Senator alright?”   
“For the moment,” agreed Obi-wan, seeing the tenderness that Anakin displayed towards Padmé. For some reason it concerned him and he looked away, “We have to get her out of here.”  
Shaak Ti pulled out her comlink, “Ti to Windu, come in Windu.”  
“Yes?”  
“Master Windu, we have found Obi-wan.”  
“Good. We’ll rendezvous at point oh nine seven as planned.”   
“Roger that.” The comlink fell silent.  
“Let’s go,” Obi-wan wondered if Anakin was all right, he seemed very quiet. “Coming Anakin?”  
“What? Oh, yes.” He could have sworn that he had heard Padmé murmur; he had sensed a subtle change in her consciousness but still her eyes were closed. Picking her up in his arms, he followed the three Jedi down the corridor.  
As they jogged along, Padmé decided that was the opportune moment to come round. “Oh!” The first thing she felt was that she was moving and she clutched at Anakin’s neck in alarm.  
“Welcome back,” said Anakin cheerfully, shifting her weight so that she was more comfortable.  
“Where are we?” Her head throbbed painfully, not helped by the constant motion.  
“Geonosis.”  
“Still?”  
“Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here soon,” he promised. “How are you feeling?”  
“I don’t feel so good,” she admitted.  
“That will be the effects of the gas.”  
Hearing the chatter behind him, Obi-wan looked round. “You’re back with us then, my lady.”  
“Yes,” she said, still shaky, “Anakin, do you mind putting me down?”  
“No of course not.”  
As Padmé reconnected with solid ground she wobbled slightly, still feeling dizzy from the effects of the gas. “I’m alright,” she said, slightly embarrassed as Anakin steadied her but she insisted that they carry on.  
“We’ve made contact with Master Windu,” explained Obi-wan to the Senator as they continued along the corridor, dropping down as they espied droids approaching.  
“And Dooku?”  
“No sign of him yet.”   
Not for the first time, Padmé wished she had a blaster.

Eventually they reached the rendezvous point, having picked up more droids and a weapon for Padmé, along the way. All of them were newly galvanised by the thought of exposing to the Republic the treachery of Dooku and his Confederacy between the CLONE and the Separatists. It gave hope to them all, especially Senator Amidala; she felt certain that other star systems would resist their overtures if they really knew that their intentions were murder and domination. They had not been waiting long before they saw Master Windu heading towards them, accompanied by Agen Kolar and Bariss Offee amongst others.  
Master Windu nodded to Obi-wan, “Good to see you.” Pulling two lightsabers out from under his cloak, he handed them to Obi-wan and Anakin.  
“I feel so popular,” smiled the Jedi, pleased to finally be able to swap his blaster for a lightsaber, the hilt, although unfamiliar, nestled in his hand.  
Windu turned his attention to Anakin. “However you are not so popular, young Skywalker. I thought I told you to stay on Tatooine?”  
“You did Master,” replied Anakin, refusing to feel guilt for his actions, “but Senator Amidala and I felt it more appropriate to help Master Kenobi.”  
“More appropriate to put your lives in danger?” questioned Master Windu, looking at them both sternly.  
“We felt that if only we could negotiate with Count Dooku,” explained Padmé, not wishing Anakin to take the brunt of the blame, “we could alleviate the situation.”  
“Without the express command of the Senate?” Master Windu turned to her, “Senator Amidala, you must know that action will have contravened several ordinances, which means we have played right into Dooku’s hands.”  
“At the time it seemed the best course of action,” maintained the Senator stubbornly, her cheeks growing hotter.  
“I for one was glad of their attempt to help me.” Obi-wan stepped forward, “Although it was not strictly orthodox without these two I would not have survived the Geonosian justice system. With respect, Master Windu, the Jedi would have arrived here too late to save me from execution.”  
“Very well,” On balance, Master Windu had to agree that Anakin and the Senator were right to take the course of action they did. “We will discuss this matter later, we have to get out of here before Dooku catches up with us.”  
“We think they have got something special planned,” replied Obi-wan, echoing the sentiments of his fellow Jedi.  
Turning back to Anakin, Master Windu told him that it was his job to get the Senator to safety.  
“Master Windu, I must protest,” began Padmé, “surely it’s safer if I…”  
“This is no time for argument, Senator Amidala,” commanded Mace, amazed at how little store she seemed to place in her own safety. “You are not authorised to be here and we cannot allow anything to happen to you.” He turned back to Anakin, “As soon as you can get the Senator to the surface.”  
“Yes Master,” although he knew that without any knowledge of the complex it would be a difficult task.  
“Droids approaching!” Shaak Ti drew her lightsaber as masses of droids approached from either end of the corridor towards them.  
“Attack!” yelled the foremost droids, and the corridor erupted in pandemonium, sparks and laser flying into the atmosphere.  
As the Jedi split to face the CLONE menace, the forgotten Padmé dived into the shelter of a nearby doorway. She was not going anywhere without a fight.  
“Come on, we have to get out of here.” Anakin joined her, deflecting laser bolts from all directions with his lightsaber.  
“I’m not going anywhere,” protested Padmé, ignoring his attempts to remove her from the action she craved. Taking very accurate shots against their adversaries, she felled several droids whilst Anakin shook his head. “You heard what Master Windu said.”  
“Anakin, I’m a part of this,” she asserted, blowing up two more droids as they broke through, “and as much as I resist aggressive negotiations, now we have to face them I am not going to be treated like some useless little girl!”  
Leaving her too it, Anakin shrugged and glanced at Mace as he headed into the skirmish. “She won’t go!”  
“Maybe I underestimated the Senator,” Mace muttered to Obi-wan as they surged forwards.  
“I think we all have,” replied Obi-wan, who was less surprised considering her actions during the siege of Naboo, “she has great courage!”  
“Forward!” shouted Shaak Ti as a way through to the north became evident, the press of droids thinning out as the Jedi decimated them. However, the sheer numbers of droids were telling and several Jedi already lay immobile on the corridor’s cold surface.  
“We have to get out of here,” said Obi-wan to Mace Windu as they progressed up the corridor, “unless we’re starting a war here?”  
“It was not our intention,” Mace raised his eyebrow.  
Anakin looked at Padmé, still crouched in the doorway. “Are you coming now or are you staying here with the droids?”  
“I’m coming,” smiled Padmé, turning her attention to the droids behind them for a moment, felling two in an instant and disabling a third.  
“Shut the blast door,” he shouted behind him as they ran to catch the Jedi. Droids were pouring through at the southern end and it would not help their escape.  
Taking aim, Padmé watched as the control panel for the blast doors exploded in a blaze of smoke and burnt plasteel. It was easy enough then for them both to mop up the final troops.   
“Good work,” said Anakin admirably as they headed after their comrades.  
“Well this is exciting,” said Padmé brightly, her cheeks flushed with all the exertion.  
“You think so?” Anakin looked at her curiously. “I’m beginning to worry about you.”  
“Why?”  
“For a pacifist you’re becoming quite bloodthirsty,” he said, laughing when she looked at him in horror.  
They reached Obi-wan and Master Windu, who were waiting at the intersection of the next corridor.  
“There you are,” said Obi-wan, keeping his eyes fixed on the corridor up ahead. “You took your time.”  
“What are we waiting for?”  
“Shaak Ti has gone up ahead.” Obi-wan glanced at him, “Can you sense Dooku?”  
Relaxing his mind, Anakin tried to empty it of all competing interference, easier said than done. Many things sought to distract his attention but eventually he felt the striking coldness that predicted the presence of Dooku. “I think he’s waiting for us.”  
“Where?” asked Obi-wan, whilst Master Windu seemed impressed. Anakin’s ability was something to be reckoned with.  
“The next level.”  
“Then we must be wary,” said Mace, seeing Shaak Ti give the all clear. “We should regroup.”

“General!”  
In one of the security rooms that were dotted across the complex Grievous was regarding a hologram of the action, working out the best strategy to contain the Jedi threat. He was confident; already he was closing in on them, it was only a matter of time. “What is it?” He stalked over to where one of the operatives was waving for his attention.  
“I’ve intercepted a transmission, General.” He pressed a button on the console and flooded the chamber with the voice of Master Windu; “Rendezvous at point oh six ninety-seven, repeat…”  
“Send all available troops to that sector,” growled Grievous, seeing his chance to catch the Jedi in a pincer movement, “make sure that no Jedi escape.”  
The door opened and Dooku walked in with four elite battle droids, their four arms bristling with weapons. “It is time for us to leave,” announced Dooku, “I suggest we head for the hangars.”  
“Thank goodness you are here,” complained Nute Gunray, coming over to the Count in a flap, “why did you not tell us that the Jedi had declared war on us?”  
“It is as much a surprise to me as it is to you, believe me Viceroy,” frowned Dooku, casting a stern eye over him. “Their pacifistic intentions are obviously a façade. They are intent on bringing the Galaxy to its knees and there will be no stopping them now they have their excuse for war.”  
“Allow me to personally oversee the destruction of the Jedi,” wheedled Grievous, longing to demonstrate the real might of the CLONE army. Until now it had only been futile gestures. “We can crush them.”  
“We must draw them away from here,” interjected the Archduke of Geonosis, “this conflict threatens the survival of our city.”  
“I agree,” said Dooku, looking in concern at a security image showing the Jedi massacre of CLONE troops. “Droids are no match for Jedi.”  
“But my Lord,” wheedled Grievous, not able to believe what he was hearing, “surely you are not suggesting that we retreat?”  
“That is exactly what I am suggesting.” Dooku looked at the cyborg grimly. “You would be wise to listen to me if you wish to leave here with your head still on your shoulders.” He looked over to where the CLONE leaders were waiting, lit by the soft glowing lights of the scopes. “General, we will escort our colleagues to their transports. Bring as many troops as you can and follow me.” He was already striding towards the exit.  
“Yes Master,” growled the cyborg, unable to believe they were giving in so easily. It was most unprecedented.

“We’ll split up and head towards the surface,” commanded Mace Windu, looking at the Jedi clustered around him, “hopefully it will divide Grievous’ forces.”   
“What do we do when we get up there?” asked Anakin, feeling jittery.  
“Get to the transports,” explained Shaak Ti, transmitting the co-ordinates to their wristbands  
“And hope Dooku doesn’t get there first,” smiled Master Windu grimly. “May the Force be with you all.”  
“Come with me,” Obi-wan said to Anakin, and Padmé who was looking ruefully at some damage to her blaster. “We’ll get you new one,” he promised.  
Splitting from their comrades, the three made their way towards the elevators at the end of the corridor. With the protection of the Senator foremost in their minds, the two Jedi were looking for the fastest way out of there. However they had not gone far when suddenly the lights flickered and then winked out.  
“What?” Obi-wan looked round with annoyance as the emergency lighting came on, bathing the corridor in eerie neon half-light. “Oh great.”  
“Now the elevator’s not working.” Anakin bashed the controls several times to vent his frustration.  
“We’ll just have to take the stairs,” said Padmé matter-of-factly.  
“Can you see any stairs?” asked Anakin, gesturing to the three corridors that branched off from their position, snaking off into the darkness.  
“No, but there’s bound to be some somewhere,” she shot back smoothly waving her blaster in the direction she considered to be the way out. “This way.”  
As she set off down the corridor, Obi-wan asked Anakin, “Does she know where she’s going?”  
“I don’t think so,” he shrugged, a half-smile on his face. “But we better go with her.”  
“I wondered if I should ever find anyone as wilful as you, Anakin,” mused Obi-wan out loud, “but it seems that I have.”  
“You haven’t seen the half of it,” complained the younger Jedi.

Far away across the complex the fires raged as the Jedi fought their way to the surface. Convinced by Separatist propaganda that it was an invasion, more and more Geonosians were joining the fight against the Jedi or trying to flee the underground city. Chaos reigned.

“There we go.” Padmé pointed to the stairs spiralling upwards, “I told you there were stairs.” Lit only by the orange glow of the emergency lighting, there was no way of telling where the stairs went.  
“Well done,” Obi-wan patted her arm as he might pat a small child who had brought him a gift of soil or crumpled fauna.  
“They could go anywhere,” sighed Anakin, concerned that they could not see an end to them. He leant against the banister and stared up into the darkness, fancying he saw something moving… but it must have been a trick of his imagination. He couldn’t feel anything up there.  
Wondering at their hesitation, Padmé doggedly started to climb. “Well I’m getting out of here whether you come with me or not.”  
“You’ve changed your tune,” laughed Anakin as he started to climb after her, the metal steps ringing out as they were struck by the soles of his boots, “it’s just…”  
“…something doesn’t feel right,” Obi-wan finished the sentence for him. He too felt something stirring, at the edges of his perception. “It would be better Senator if you allowed Anakin to go first.”  
Unable to see what troubled them, but understanding the compulsions of the Jedi, Padmé readily assented. There was an awkward moment as Anakin slipped past her on the narrow stairway, unable to help brushing against her as he did so. Their eyes met briefly, recognising that passions were stirred within both of them, but it was over in an instant. Anakin bounded off up the stairs, followed by the Senator and Obi-wan bringing up the rear, feeling the tingles on the Force and wondering what they signified.

As Dooku and Grievous rounded the corner that would take them to the hangar, they came to a halt, as did Master Windu coming from the opposite direction.  
There was no surprise, only contempt on Dooku’s features, “Well, well if it isn’t my old Master come to check up on me.”  
“Cut the pleasantries Dooku,” snapped Mace, his lightsaber’s steady beam of light fixed on the Count.   
“May I ask what you are doing here?” Dooku asked. “Invading a non-recognised Republic system is not normal Jedi activity.”  
“You were holding Obi-wan Kenobi here unlawfully. We came to release him.”  
“He seemed to release himself,” said Dooku calmly. “So I don’t think any of this is really necessary. In fact you have probably contravened Republic laws designed to prevent less noble beings from committing this kind of atrocity.”  
“This is no time for games, Dooku.” Master Windu’s lightsaber did not waver.  
There was a sharp click from behind Dooku, just audible beneath the clamouring sirens.  
The Count was not yet ready to back down. “Really Master Windu, don’t act all innocent with me. If you are to send Jedi on espionage missions you really must tell them to be more inconspicuous. First I catch Master Kenobi sneaking around and then I find Senator Amidala and young Skywalker doing the same. What else can I do except turn them over to the authorities?”  
No evidence of emotion registered on Master Windu’s face. “You can be assured Dooku that Obi-wan was not sent on any espionage mission. He was investigating the CLONE and this brought him to Geonosis. Maybe you should be explaining your link to the CLONE, Count?”  
Dooku stepped back, “Very well, my friend. If that is what you desire.”  
It was then that Grievous leapt forward, each of his four mechanical arms equipped with a lightsaber, whirling around his bony cranium. He charged towards Master Windu, who dodged quickly, parrying each strike deftly as he sought to contain the General’s attacks, energy sparks flashing around them with the intensity of the blows. But Grievous had the upper hand and he drove Master Windu backwards down the corridor, slashing deep rents in the walls and the floors as he came relentlessly onwards.  
“Goodbye my old friend.” Dooku watched for a moment, sighing regretfully. Then, he pressed his wristband and disappeared through a door in the wall.

Of the various groups of Jedi making their way around the complex, Shaak Ti and Bariss Offee were the first two to make it back to the transports, hidden behind a large outcrop of rock. It seemed that the Geonosians shunned the surface and they met with no resistance once they had left the complex.  
“There’s no-one else here,” remarked Bariss, saluting the waiting pilot as they hurried over the rough ground.  
“Master Windu will be here soon,” said Shaak Ti softly, speaking a silent entreaty to the Force. They reached the transport and, after refreshing themselves, took a seat on the ship’s open platform.  
“It’s such a barren planet,” commented Shaak Ti, watching the steam rising thinly in the distance, the peculiar vents that belched out clouds continuously.  
“I wonder if it is something to do with the industrial workings,” replied Bariss, taking a long, deep gulp of water. “I’ve seen it on places like Kessel. They strip all the elements from the ground, leaving only bare rock. Nothing can grow because of the toxins in the atmosphere.”  
“Here even the air seems tainted,” agreed her companion, “I did not notice it so much in the complex but up here there is a peculiar feel to it.”  
“I imagine that is why the Geonosians have retreated under ground.”  
They lapsed into silence, their thoughts with their colleagues, willing them on.

The battle between Grievous and Windu had reached the central atrium, a tall shaft that ran the entire depth of the complex, serving as a connection point for all the miles and miles of corridors that ran beneath the surface. At the very top was a panelled roof that allowed some daylight to penetrate into all except the murkiest lower levels. It was all the more necessary now that the main power had failed.  
Despite the technical brilliance of the cyborg, Windu’s strength and resilience was beginning to tell against the General. Already he had deprived him of one arm; in a devastating move, he deprived him of another. As Master Windu thought to himself, rudimentary training in lightsaber combat, as Grievous clearly enjoyed, was no match for the grace and ability gleaned from the Force. The General was clearly a decoy, utilised by Dooku to affect his own escape.  
Staring at his stumps in dismay, Grievous knew it was time for him to depart. It had always been the intention; distract the Jedi Master then run. Although Grievous had been successful against a great many Jedi in his heyday, even he knew that he was no match for the greatest of Jedi warriors. It was therefore more logical to preserve his existence than to win, and whilst he continued to exist he would continue to be an irritant to the Jedi. From the General’s point of view, it was not cowardice. Launching both remaining lightsabers simultaneously at the Jedi Master, which forced him to dive out the way, Grievous propelled himself upwards into the atrium, landing with a heavy clunk on one of the balconies. Master Windu was about to follow him when, from one of the corridors, several units of hardened battle droids streamed into the atrium, firing on the Jedi Master. Mace Windu could only watch as Grievous continued his way upwards, soaring from balcony to balcony. He had to contain the threat and by the time he had reduced the droids to bits and pieces, Grievous had disappeared into the uppermost levels of the complex.

“How much further?” Padmé was leant against the banister, breathing deeply, her cheeks flushed. They had been climbing for a long time and now exhaustion was setting in.  
“Not far.” Anakin was several steps higher, looking down at her.  
“You keep saying that!”  
“Because it’s true,” he insisted, “we’re honestly much closer to the top than had we been at the bottom.”  
“Come on Padmé,” Obi-wan smiled at her kindly, for he too was exhausted. “It’s best if we keep going.”  
Dragging her reluctant body upwards, Padmé made her way towards Anakin, who waited until they had caught up with him before continuing. Although he too was flagging, he felt galvanised by the feeling that they were almost near the surface; the detention centre had been in the bowels of the complex but a rough approximation suggested to him that they had climbed enough levels.  
Finally they reached a door which signalled the end of the stairs.   
“At last,” said Padmé happily. She had had enough of stairs for a lifetime.  
Pressing the controls however did not cause the door to yield; obviously it was connected to the power supply.  
“We shouldn’t need force,” said Obi-wan as Anakin looked about to put his shoulder to it.  
“Lightsabers won’t do it,” the younger man shook his head as Obi-wan ignited his weapon.  
“Let me try first.” Holding the lightsaber at right angles to the door, Obi-wan tried to cut through but the light merely glanced off the surface. It did not even scorch the material.  
“I told you so,” said Anakin as he watched Obi-wan’s futile attempt.  
“No need to be so smug, my young padawan,” countered Obi-wan, “are you ready?” As Padmé moved out of the way, they silently counted to three and threw themselves against the door. It shuddered but it held firm.  
“Now what?” Padmé was annoyed to think they had come all that way only to be defeated by a door.  
“Well have you got any better ideas?” Anakin frowned, rubbing his shoulder to regain the feeling. He wished he had brought R2 with him.  
Going over to the control panel, Padmé examined it carefully. “Maybe we can fiddle with the electrics?” Ripping off the front cover revealed the power cells used to open the door but without a power supply it was impossible to hotwire them. “Would the power from your lightsaber help?” she asked Obi-wan.  
“It’s worth a try.” Obi-wan ignited his lightsaber and brushed it against the power cells at the same time as Anakin pressed the control for the door. Whether it was luck or the power of the Force, the door opened grudgingly. “Why didn’t we think of that?”  
“Sometimes the best solution is the least obvious one,” smiled Padmé, following him into the corridor beyond the door.  
The corridor was empty, lit only by emergency lighting, and fairly short. It was bisected by another corridor but, seeing that it opened out further along, they continued along it until they came into a hallway.  
It was another hallway as grand as the one that Anakin and Padmé had first stumbled upon. Circular, it was bisected by passageways at various intervals. Above the archways ran a ledge all the way around the room and above this ledge a succession of carved friezes of humanoids battling with ferocious-looking creatures.  
“This looks promising,” said Obi-wan, who was admiring less the carvings than an archway to the north. Through it he could see a passageway leading upwards onto the surface.  
“Wait a minute,” cautioned Anakin as they started across the tiled floor, “There’s a disturbance.”  
“I feel it too,” remarked Obi-wan, his hand in his lightsaber, “it couldn’t be…”  
“So we meet again.”   
Dooku emerged from one of the passageways, his lightsaber already drawn, blocking their path to the exit. “So you were clever enough to find me,” he continued menacingly, “but will you be clever enough to defeat me?”  
“If it isn’t our friend Count Dooku,” said Obi-wan looking down his nose at the Jedi who had betrayed them. “You claimed your quarrel was with the Republic not the Order. But you revealed that to be a lie.”  
“The Republic is dying Obi-wan,” spat Dooku, holding his ground, “and the Jedi along with it.”   
“Not if we have anything to do with it,” asserted Anakin, also drawing his lightsaber.  
“Young fools.” Smiling evilly, he flung out his hand suddenly towards the Senator. Immediately she clutched her throat, unable to breathe, her windpipe seeming to constrict as the Count clenched his fingers into a fist. “Help” she whispered, feeling her legs buckling beneath her, reaching out to Anakin, light speckled mist clouding her eyes.  
Alarmed by the Count’s attack, Anakin charged impetuously towards him. “Let her go, Dooku!” he yelled, brandishing his lightsaber above his head.  
“Anakin, no!”  
Dropping the Senator to the ground, Dooku smiled faintly, watching the young Jedi approach until at the last moment he raised his arm effortlessly. Unprepared, Anakin was lifted up as easily as he was driftwood tossed by the raging tide. Before he knew what was happening, he was hurled across down the corridor, slammed by invisible hands into the wall. Moaning in agony, Anakin slid downwards, coming to rest eventually on the cold floor slumped and unconscious.  
Laughing, Dooku looked to Obi-wan who was kneeling beside Padmé, his hand on her forehead. “As you can see, my Jedi powers are far beyond yours. Now, back down unless you want to share the same fate as your young friends.”  
Obi-wan was not going to let himself be bullied by the elder man. “I don't think so.” Standing up, he brandished his lightsaber. “Even you know that you have gone too far.”  
“Oh no, Obi-wan. I have much further to go, believe me.” Dooku took out his own lightsaber, approaching his adversary slowly as a predator might eye its prey. “When you have spent as many years as I have learning to use the power of the Dark Side you will find that you too can have infinitely greater power than the pathetic skills taught to us by the Jedi Temple.”  
Lord Tyrannus… so Dooku has turned to the Dark Side. “Well now you have a chance to prove how powerful you are.”   
In a blaze of light he launched himself at the former Jedi, swinging his lightsaber at Dooku’s head. Dooku parried the cut easily, elegantly circling the younger man.  
“Master Kenobi, you disappoint me,” goaded Dooku, gracefully forcing Obi-wan back towards the hangar entrance. He parried another attack, smiling mockingly at the younger Jedi, “maybe I have expected too much from you?”  
Panting with the effort, Obi-wan stepped back, trying to buy some time.  
“Come, come,” admonished Dooku, “please tell me you are not ready to surrender so soon. I was just beginning to enjoy myself.”  
Taking a deep breath, Obi-wan gripped his lightsaber tightly and launched himself at Dooku, driving him back towards the wall. Despite the elder Jedi’s superior skill Obi-wan regained the momentum, forcing Dooku into retreat. Seeing his earlier dominance of the fight compromised, Dooku upped his concentration and pushed harder and harder against the younger Jedi, forcing Obi-wan to his limit. Blue lightsaber clashed against red lightsaber, filling the space with bright flashes of light, sparks flying all around them. It was only a tiny moment he needed, a small miscalculation, a stumble there… and then Obi-wan unwittingly gave Dooku the opportunity. Crying out, the younger Jedi felt searing pain as the lightsaber blade cut mercilessly deep into the soft flesh of his shoulder. He stumbled back, tripped, and fell heavily onto the floor, clutching at his wound. Dropping his lightsaber, it skittered across the floor, extinguishing its light.  
“You should never have let your guard down, Obi-wan,” said Dooku, walking over to the wounded Jedi, seeing his face contorted with agony.  
Obi-wan looked on helplessly as Dooku raised his lightsaber, unable to move from the pain, closing his eyes as the blade flashed down.   
But nothing happened although the humming and crackling in his ears was immense. His eyes snapped open.  
Dooku was staring at Anakin; his blade locked in position just above Obi-wan’s neck by the younger man’s blade, both Jedi straining to maintain their position.  
“Very brave of you, boy,” said Dooku, but with noticeably less confidence than before. “But I thought you had learnt your lesson.”  
Narrowing his eyes, Anakin smiled at the older man. “Didn’t Obi-wan tell you that I'm a slow learner?” And he pushed upwards with all his strength, finally forcing Dooku away from his stricken Master.  
They fought, warily sizing each other up as the bright blades clashed; the raw young man still at the beginning of his Jedi training, unsure of his powers but buoyed up with reckless confidence against the elder Jedi who knew his own strengths and could protect against his weaknesses, and who openly flirted with darker forces. In many ways they were unevenly matched but even Obi-wan marvelled at how well Anakin managed to hold out against the Count. Watching them from his position on the floor he was aware of Anakin’s considerable combat skills, although his approach was still too wayward at times and would need to be tempered. But he was instinctive, that was certain, and fluid.  
Hoping to catch the Count slightly off balance, Anakin kept up a merciless attack, driving him away from his friends. For a while, he was able to maintain his offensive, his blade flashing with a new intensity, the lightsaber sparking against the walls in his reckless attempt to defeat the elder Jedi.  
“You have unusual powers, young Skywalker,” intoned Dooku, his eyes narrowing as they circled each other, “But you cannot control them.”  
Flushed with exertion, Anakin was breathing heavily. “Soon I will and then I’ll be even more powerful!”  
Obi-wan lifted a feeble hand, using the Force to catch his lightsaber and tossing it to his pupil. “Anakin!”  
Seizing the lightsaber, Anakin renewed his attack this time with two blades. The two protagonists danced with deadly precision around the massive hallway, the lights of the blades casting their resolute faces in an eerie glow. Unknowingly, Anakin was forcing the proud Dooku to reassess just exactly how dangerous this young man might be, his sarcastic comments decreasing as he was forced back again and again. Although Anakin could feel the older man’s increasing fear and tried to capitalise upon it, he was finding it harder and harder to maintain his momentum; like Obi-wan had found, his exhaustion was beginning to tell with the continual frenetic action and he was finding it difficult to focus. Sensing his fatigue, Dooku drove Anakin back until finally, in one brilliantly executed move, he chopped off Anakin’s right arm at the elbow. The arm, still clutching the lightsaber, flew across the floor. Feeling the agony, Anakin used his last reserves of energy to channel the pain, lashing out with his left hand to bring his remaining blade crashing down onto Dooku’s upper arm. Stumbling backwards, the Count put a hand to his arm to feel the smear of blood. Angrily he directed the full force of his power at Anakin, sending the Jedi flying. As he fell to the floor, he banged his head and collapsed unconscious once more.  
“All too easy,” smiled Dooku. But he heard footsteps and looked up. Heading towards him was a familiar figure. It was Master Windu.  
“So we meet again.” Behind Dooku he could see the broken bodies of Obi-wan and Anakin. The silent Senator, her face pale as she lay prone on the floor.  
Dooku took a step towards Mace, keeping his lightsaber lit. “We do.”  
“I find it difficult to understand,” replied the Jedi Master sternly, “why you turn on your comrades.”  
“For far too long now, the Jedi have closed their minds to the power of the Dark side. I am merely curious, that is all, to understand the true nature of what we call the Force. True enlightenment does not come from looking at something in isolation.”  
“And you call this enlightenment?” Mace indicated the destruction. “Twisted by the Dark side you have become.”  
“You are blinded by your prejudices, Master Windu,” stated Dooku arrogantly, “you claim to fear nothing yet you too fear the claim of the Dark side to use it to your advantage.”  
Mace and Dooku fought but despite Dooku’s training in the dark arts he was no match for the strong and powerful Jedi Master. Several times Dooku was beaten back, many times he contemplated a diversionary tactic but Mace’s attacks left him no outlet except to defend himself. It was only when Dooku regained the upper hand with a swift and deadly stroke that he felt more confident; however there was a niggling voice at the back of his mind that impressed upon him the need to retreat, to conserve his energy for another time. Summoning all his energy he broke free one of the statues from the ledge above and flung it at Mace. Mace easily deflected it with his lightsaber but seeing his chance, Dooku did the same again and again until it was raining stone fragments upon the two masters of the Force, Mace’s lightsaber dicing centuries of past civilisations. But Dooku was relentless and soon Mace could hardly see for the flurry of stone. When it finally cleared, Dooku was gone.  
Dropping his guard, Mace reached out with the Force, sensing that Dooku was in retreat. His focus returned to the three casualties and, calling for any final Jedi in the complex to join him at his position, he set about seeing who was the strongest of Dooku’s victims. It proved to be Obi-wan.  
“Where’s… Dooku?” wheezed Obi-wan, barely able to speak as Mace checked over his wounds.  
“Escaped,” said the Jedi Master sourly, helping Obi-wan to stand. “You both fought well but Dooku is stronger than I thought. He has been training in the dark arts.”  
“Yes, he did mention that,” said Obi-wan, slowly getting to his feet. “I think he might be the Lord Tyrannus I encountered on Kamino but Dooku also mentioned the presence of a Sith on Coruscant, if we can trust his word.”  
“A Sith on Coruscant?” Mace frowned, “We will have to consider this information very carefully. Dooku’s real intention is finally revealed to us and it seems that he has become an enemy of the Jedi Order.” He looked round as a clattering from the passageway indicated the appearance of Agen Kolar and Plo Koon. “That’s all of us then.”  
As Agen Kolar tended to the Senator, he heard her murmur. The dark lashes flickered and then finally her eyes opened, “Dooku…?”  
“It’s alright my lady, he’s gone.” He helped the Senator to stand, noting with concern the red marks on her neck that looked like the imprint of fingers. “Come, we must get you out of here.”  
“Anakin?” As they helped the Senator out the hallway, Obi-wan had gone over to his pupil. Anakin had fared worse than them all; the bloody stump of his shattered arm was wrapped in the tattered remains of his tunic, his eyes were resolutely closed.   
“How is he?” Mace Windu asked with some trepidation.  
Gently Obi-wan placed his hand on his forehead, breathing a sigh of relief. “He’s alive.”


	10. An Uneasy Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin recovers after his disastrous attempt to fight Count Dooku. After Obi-wan finds him and Padme together, he warns him that he is getting too close to the Senator, to which Anakin reluctantly agrees.

The Republic cruiser sped past stars and glowing nebulas, past planets, whole systems, on its journey to the centre of the Galaxy. Coming into the private quarters of Senator Amidala, Obi-wan looked around for the young lady. Eventually he saw her, reclining on one of the functional benches reading a holopad intently. He was pleased to see that the colour had returned to her cheeks, although he noticed that there was tension in her forehead as her eyes scanned the document.  
“My lady,” Obi-wan bowed politely.  
“Obi-wan.” Putting down the holopad, Padmé smiled to see the Jedi. “You are looking well.”  
“Yes, thank you my lady.” Obi-wan had largely recovered although his arm was still heavily strapped for the time being.  
“Have they made any more progress with Anakin?” Ever since they had left Geonosis for the long journey back to Coruscant, Anakin had remained in a critical condition as a result of the wounds and dark force energy he had sustained at the hands of Dooku.   
“I have good news, my lady. It seems that he is well enough now to have visitors.”  
“That is good news.” Padmé immediately felt a huge weight leave her heart. “Are you going to see him, Master Kenobi?”  
“I am,” replied Obi-wan, thinking it would be pleasant to spend more time with her; despite his reservations about politicians he found that he genuinely liked the spirited, if headstrong, Senator. “I was hoping you would like to accompany me?”  
“I would very much like that, thank you.”  
As they walked together along the corridor of the vast Republic cruiser towards the medical bay, Padmé asked Obi-wan if he had heard any reports of the whereabouts of Count Dooku.  
“Not yet my lady,” he admitted, “there is a rumour that he has been spotted on Serrano but it is still too early to assume its veracity.”  
“Indeed, I was only just reading the same. However it seems there is no doubt that he will declare war on the Republic,” she mused regretfully, “now the Republic have declared war on the CLONE.” Whilst they had been away, the Chancellor had pushed through the Military Creation Act with his new emergency powers and the first battalions from Kamino had already been shipped over to the Republic capital.  
“Indeed, my lady, but I do not believe what happened on Geonosis hastened anything,” replied Obi-wan, sensing that the Senator believed she was somehow responsible. Her demeanour suggested it, “I believe it was his intention all along, our intervention has perhaps only hastened things.”

Anakin was bored. Even though he was thankful to have survived the ordeal at the hands of Dooku, he was restless left alone in the medical centre and if there was one thing that Anakin disliked intently was being alone. So it delighted him when the door opened and Senator Amidala stepped into the room.  
“You’re awake,” she said happily, bounding over to where Anakin reclined on a couch and enveloping him in a close embrace.   
He hugged her back, equally fiercely, “You’re alright.”  
They held each other for a little longer, enjoying the comfort that only close affection could bring.  
Drawing back, she sat beside him on the couch, “How is your arm?”  
He showed her his stump, encased in the complex contraption that enabled the bacta fluid to cleanse the wound and repair the damage to the nerves. Fine, clear tubes carried the red, viscous fluid to and from the machines at his side. “They think that they can make me a new one.”  
“Really?” She looked pleased.  
“It won’t look anything like a real arm but it’s better than nothing.”  
“I’m just glad to see that you’re okay,” said Padmé with relief, “we were all so worried.”  
“I thought Dooku was going to kill us all,” said Anakin sombrely, “we did well to escape with our lives.”  
“Obi-wan was telling me how well you fought him,” continued Padmé, “though,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes, “he also said you were reckless to think you could fight a Sith Lord.”  
“He has a point,” agreed Anakin, remembering that once again it had been the threat of danger to Padmé that had made him act so rashly. It was clear she was a bad influence on him.  
“He is proud of you though, and I am too.”  
The tenderness in her dark eyes caught his attention, “I don’t know why, you spend most of the time disagreeing with me.”  
“Only because you think you know what’s best for me,” she said firmly, “and if there is one thing I hate the most is people telling me what to do.”  
“I found that out to my cost,” he said, trying not to smile.  
It made her happy to see his old spirit returning and she told him so. It seemed the dark events on Tatooine and Geonosis were behind them.  
“Not forgotten,” he sighed, shifting his position on the bed as his legs became uncomfortable, “but growing dimmer hopefully with time.”  
To his surprise, Padmé’s lip quivered. “What is it?”  
“Anakin, I’ve come to realise something. I can’t…”  
Before she could finish, the door slid open and Obi-wan strode in. “Sorry, was I interrupting?” he said jokingly, seeing the two young people close together.  
“No… no of course not,” smiled Padmé nervously, hoping her cheeks were not as red as they felt. “Anakin was just showing me his arm.”  
“Ah yes,” there was something about their manner which suggested to Obi-wan things weren’t as they seemed; Padmé’s eyes in particular seemed to gleam with an unusual intensity.  
The Senator dutifully moved out the way so that he could take a look at Anakin’s arm for himself, “It looks like a clean cut,” was Obi-wan’s eventual assessment.  
“It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would,” said Anakin, wondering what Padmé had so desperately wanted to tell him, “but that might be the effect of the drugs. How is your shoulder, Master?”  
“Fine, fine. It was nothing really.” Obi-wan took a seat next to the Senator, “While you are both here, I wanted to thank you both for coming to rescue me on Geonosis. I realise that I was not entirely grateful to you both at the time but what I said to Master Windu still stands. Without you I doubt that I would be here now.”  
“I don’t believe that the Council will be quite so magnanimous,” remarked Anakin. He expected that once he was out of the medi-centre he would be severely reprimanded. For once he knew he deserved it.  
“Oh, I believe Master Windu now knows a lot more about the circumstances of your decision,” replied Obi-wan, folding his hands, looking from the young Senator to his padawan, “and although he does not agree with your actions, he did admit that your decision was actually more inspired in the circumstances than his orders. Despite my intelligence to them regarding the situation on Geonosis, it seems the Council had greatly underestimated the forces against them.”  
“I think we all are culpable of underestimating the CLONE,” added Padmé solemnly, “and now the Senate’s actions will only spark further confrontation.”  
There was a silence as the three digested her words, Anakin uncertain of what she referred to but assuming that some momentous decisions had been taking place in their absence.   
“Senator Amidala,” one of the aides poked their head around the door, “forgive my intrusion but there is an urgent message from the Chancellor, my lady. He wishes to speak with you immediately.”  
“Of course,” she wondered if she was to be about to be censured for her impetuous actions and mentally steeled herself. “Goodbye Anakin, Master Kenobi.”  
“Goodbye Senator Amidala.” The two men watched as her as she left the chamber and the door slid quietly closed behind her.  
“I see what you mean now, Anakin,” said the older Jedi, leaning back in his chair, “she is one wilful young lady.”  
“I told you so,” said Anakin, unable to resist getting one up on his Master, “but her heart and her head are very much in tune, her values are stronger than protocol and I find that refreshing.”  
“I am sure you do Anakin,” chuckled Obi-wan, realising the traits he admired in the Senator were very similar to his own attitudes. “But whilst we are on the subject, do I need to ask you about your relationship with the Senator?”  
Concerned that his feelings towards the Senator had gotten too transparent to his Master, Anakin decided to be honest. “I care for her very deeply, Master.”  
“Well, that is obvious,” replied Obi-wan, remembering the emotions which had enabled Anakin to not only smash a toughened glass window but also his impetuousness in the battle against Dooku. “But that is what I am concerned about.”  
“I have told the Senator how I feel,” said Anakin, deciding to brazen it out, “but we know we can only ever be friends.”  
“I am impressed, Anakin,” said Obi-wan, uncomfortably shifting on the couch, “that you have handed it so maturely. But does the Senator really see it that way? You have been spending a lot of time together and you have saved her life twice. That kind of behaviour makes her susceptible.”  
“We both know it would be impossible to take things further,” asserted the young man.  
“But you still have a strong emotional connection to her,” continued Obi-wan, more softly, “and it makes you reckless.”   
Anakin had to concede that his Master had a point. “I am working on it, Master.”  
“I can help you with that,” said Obi-wan kindly, “and I’m not asking you to stop caring for the Senator, only that you be more careful how you react to your emotions.” Obi-wan got up and went over to the huge window, “Twice on Geonosis you allowed your feelings for the Senator to take precedence and you put yourself into grave danger as a result. There is nothing wrong, Anakin, with having those feelings but you must learn to control them.” He turned back to his friend, “Otherwise you will be easy prey for Jedi such as Dooku.”  
Anakin felt ashamed, knowing that Obi-wan was right. He had not only allowed his feelings for Padmé to endanger his life but it had driven him to violent actions as a result. It was the same as the rage he had felt when his mother died; it had taken over him, made him its slave.  
“As a Jedi we must learn to use our powers wisely,” continued Obi-wan, knowing he was on familiar ground with his padawan but feeling the need to press his point home, “You have great power, Anakin, but I can see that it sometimes overwhelms you. It controls you rather than the other way around. Is that a fair assessment?”  
“Yes, Master,” he admitted, “It is something I have been struggling with.”  
“Then we need to address it, Anakin. Our strength must come from our love of the Force and for all of the living, not from our emotions.” It was a concern to Obi-wan that Anakin had not raised these issues with him directly but he conceded that perhaps the young man was only just starting to realise the extent of his powers, driven by events outside of the Jedi training.  
“Obi-wan, would you meditate with me a while? It helps me to focus.” Anakin never liked to have his weaknesses discussed but the concern from Obi-wan showed that his Master was willing to help him overcome them. He was gripped with uncertainty over how Obi-wan would react to his terrible failure, but equally he grasped the moment to confess the pain that continually oppressed him. It was to Anakin’s great surprise, and to Obi-wan’s credit, that he found his Mentor to be open and receptive.


	11. The CLONE War Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padme is ordered to return to her home planet of Naboo, this time accompanied by Jedi Shaak Ti, much to her dismay. She and Anakin visit the Chancellor before her departure, where he praises them for their quick thinking. The Chancellor expresses his interest in Anakin, and his certainty that he will be a Jedi Master one day.
> 
> Yoda, who was in self-imposed exile to understand the mysteries of the Force, returns to Coruscant to support the Jedi Council in their decisions. They discuss their need to advance Anakin's training as soon as possible and raise him to the status of Jedi Knight. At the same time, the new army is paraded through the city, with Bail Organa newly elected as its leader.

The speeder flew past the Senate, entering the busiest lanes of traffic seen in the capital. Inside it, ensconced in flowing velvet robes, Senator Amidala stared moodily out the window. Once the Senate had represented to her the ideals she fought for, seeing it now she felt chilled to her bones; in her mind the building that for so long had stood for peace and stability had become much darker, a hulking morass of seething corruption and secrets. It had hidden an army for ten years, senators were abandoning it to make other agreements with a rebellious Jedi… what else was it hiding?  
Eventually the speeder landed on the veranda of the Senator’s apartment and Padmé climbed out, greeting her two handmaidens pleasantly. They walked with her towards the entrance to her apartment, informing her that she had visitors.  
Entering the apartment, she espied the two figures waiting inside. “Master Obi-wan, Anakin,” she said prettily, going over to greet them. “I trust you have not been waiting long?”  
“No my lady,” replied Obi-wan, remaining on his feet despite the Senator’s offer of a seat. “We have come to inform you that the Chancellor’s office has decreed that you can return to your home planet of Naboo as soon as you are able.”  
Padmé was surprised to have heard so soon; they had only returned to Coruscant days before, “That is… good news.”  
“With the current instability of the Galaxy it is necessary, my lady. The Chancellor has also insisted that you retain a Jedi escort. Anakin and I are unable to take you to Naboo as we have many new commitments to attend to, but the Council have freed Shaak Ti from her duties. She will be ready to escort you as and when you wish.”  
“I am afraid to present a continued burden to you, Master Jedi,” said Padmé graciously, hiding her sadness that she would not be travelling with her dear friends, “but with the remaining of Captain Typho on Coruscant I would find myself without sufficient security.” She wondered why the two Jedi had come in person rather than rely the message to her through her communication system but an explanation was not long in coming.  
“We also came to say goodbye,” continued Obi-wan in one of those perceptive comments which made non-Jedi suspicious, “Anakin and I are about to embark on an intense training programme, you may not see us for a long while.”  
After spending so much time with the young Jedi and his Master, the news stung her but Padmé knew she had to be professional. “That is sad news, I hope that our paths will cross from time to time in the future.”  
“My lady,” said Anakin gravely, “The Chancellor has asked that we go to see him before you depart. He wishes to commend us for our actions on Geonosis.”  
“He does?” said Padmé with some surprise: her previous meetings with the Chancellor had remained fortuitously silent on that issue, being taken up with the other cataclysmic events in the Senate.  
“He expressed his regret that he was not able to address it with you sooner.”  
“I’ll leave you both to it then,” said Obi-wan, adding mentally to Anakin, come straight back to the Temple as soon as you have seen the Chancellor. He was eager to take Anakin away from the political maelstrom of Coruscant and get him back into the calming atmosphere of the Jedi Temple.  
“Goodbye Master Kenobi,” said the Senator politely, “Please take a seat Anakin; I’ll try not to be too long. If you need anything, just ask Ellé.”  
“Thank you,” said Anakin as the handmaiden, who eerily resembled the Senator in many ways, smiled at him. As Padmé left him, Anakin did not sit down but instead went over to the huge open veranda which looked out over the city towards the Jedi Temple, hazy in the distance. As he looked out, there was nervous anticipation in his heart and his concentration began to dim, entering the inner consciousness motivated by his connection to the Force.  
'…Where are you now…?'  
He tried to imagine his mother, when she had been brighter, happier despite the life she endured. But only vague recollections came to him now. Holding him close when he cried, soft kisses on the cheek, a small present of a beautiful pebble or a broken valve. Moments of love came effortlessly to him. But as soon as he tried to remember her face the more he remembered only her pain, her suffering, the poor, broken skin and her haunted eyes…  
'…I don’t know, but its cold I don’t want to be here...'  
“I’m ready, Anakin.”  
The images faded abruptly and he turned round to see the Senator, “Let’s go.”

“Ah, my two favourite young people,” said the Chancellor as Senator Amidala and Anakin entered his spacious office. Getting up from his desk, he smiled warmly as he shook both their hands. “It is so good to see you both, and I thank you, especially for coming when I can imagine you are anxious to return to Naboo my lady, and you Anakin to your training.”  
“It is most kind of you to enable me to return home,” smiled Padmé, who accepted that after recent events she needed some time to recuperate. She looked with interest at the Chancellor’s desk. Unusually for the very tidy Chancellor it was covered in a whirlwind of papers, flimplasts and holopads.  
“Indeed, I thought that a rest will do you good, and already your recuperation has brought a sparkle back to your eyes that before was sorely lacking, if I may say so.”  
“Thank you, Chancellor Palpatine.” Padmé had not known that her loss of spirit had been so obvious beforehand.  
“I was eager to see what they had managed to do with your arm, Anakin,” continued Palpatine to the young man, who had remained silent since he came into the office.  
“Of course, Lord Chancellor.” Moving aside his cloak, Anakin showed him the metal forelimb and fingers, neatly attached to the flesh of his arm beneath his jerkin.  
“Oh how disappointing,” said the Chancellor critically, “it does not look convincing, I am sure that they could do something better. How do you find it?”  
Anakin, who had been disappointed with the arm itself after a couple of combat training sessions, was honest. “It is not very flexible, I was hoping that I might be able to tweak it myself.”  
“Leave it with me Anakin; I shall pursue this matter urgently.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Now then, you are probably wondering why I asked you here,” continued the Chancellor, conversationally, taking a seat behind the desk. “I have been informed of your actions on Geonosis and I wanted to praise you for your tenacity and courage in pursuing the cause of the Republic against its known enemies. Now I realise that protocol was not always followed to the letter,” here he looked specifically at Senator Amidala, “however I am prepared to overlook such conventions in the Republic’s hour of need. I was particularly impressed to hear, Senator, of your attempts to reason with the irascible Count Dooku, that was especially brave of you considering his reputation.”  
“It has always been a principle of mine to negotiate peacefully before attempting more aggressive tactics,” said the young woman loftily, remembering that the Jedi had fewer qualms on that front.  
“Indeed.” Suddenly an urgent buzzing came from the communicator. “Please excuse me,” he said, going to answer it. He listened gravely for a moment, “Of course. Senator Amidala, it seems that one of your handmaidens, Corday, is waiting for you in the lobby, she has an urgent message for you. She says it cannot wait.”  
“Oh,” irritated by the interruption, Padmé could not think what it might be, “I should go and see what is the matter.”  
“I think I have said everything I wish to say, Senator Amidala,” said the Chancellor kindly, “I will not keep Anakin much longer so you do not have to traipse all the way back here. You may wait for him in the lobby. I am sure that you will want to say goodbye to him before he returns to his training.”  
Suspicious that the Chancellor seemed to know rather too much about her actions on Geonosis and her relationship with Anakin, nonetheless Padmé smiled agreeably. “Thank you, your Excellency, for your kind words.”  
“It is always a pleasure, my dear. I hope you enjoy your leave of absence, we will endeavour to keep you updated on everything that happens here.”  
“But not too much so that Senator Amidala is unable to relax,” said Anakin meaningfully.  
Chancellor Palpatine laughed, “You know as well as I do Anakin that Senator Amidala will never relax whilst there is such turmoil in the Galaxy.”  
“I will endeavour to try.” Padmé smiled again before leaving the Chancellor’s office.  
As she took her leave, the Chancellor turned back to Anakin, “It almost makes me weep to see the terrible damage that has been inflicted upon the Jedi Order by one of its own. And to think that they can only replace your arm with this travesty! I will do my utmost to investigate the possibilities. Maybe the Bwell-we of Kamino will assist us?”  
“I would not want you to expend too much effort on my behalf,” said the young Jedi with gratitude, “and with practise I am certain that I will be able to overcome the limitations presented by this replacement.”  
“But this will not do, Anakin,” insisted the Chancellor, his forehead creased with deepening lines, “I would not want to think that an injury sustained whilst liberating the Republic could jeopardise your chances of taking the Trails.”  
“Master Obi-wan and I are about to embark on an intensive training course,” replied Anakin smoothly, “he thinks it will be another year before I should take the trials, and I agree with him.” After recent events even Anakin was prepared to admit that he was not ready yet.   
“Really, why not?”   
“I have great powers, your Excellency,” said Anakin without a trace of arrogance, “however I find that I cannot always control them, rather they are more apt to control me. I need to learn to control them before I can become a Jedi Knight.”  
Palpatine looked at him thoughtfully. “I see. From what I know of your abilities Anakin, I would have thought you would have been ready by now. But what do I know of the decisions of the Jedi Council? It is not for me to dictate what should and should not be done about your future. That is the prerogative of Master Obi-wan.”  
“And I agree with both Obi-wan and the Council in this instance.”  
“You do not always agree with them, then?” asked the Chancellor, studying Anakin very carefully.  
“No, not all the time,” replied Anakin, perhaps too honestly, “I have a reputation for not listening to orders particularly well, which is again something I must work on.”  
“Yes, the Jedi are very strict about what can and cannot be done in their name.” It was little surprise to the Chancellor having worked with the Jedi Council for many years. “However, there is no shame in striking out independently, witness the career of your former mentor, Qui-Gon Jinn. He was very outspoken against the Council, which may have wrecked his chances of participating in their decisions but that did not prevent him from becoming a very fine Jedi.”  
“He was a great warrior,” said Anakin, his eyes shining with inspiration in remembrance of Qui-Gon.  
Leaning forward in his chair, the Chancellor looked searchingly into the young man’s eyes. “You must have faith in yourself, Anakin, and your abilities. You have the makings of a great warrior yourself. Think about your achievements! You are a strong, intelligent young man, and you have demonstrated yourself to be a cunning warrior. You know that we will be relying on you to play a significant role in the forthcoming conflict against the CLONE.”  
“I would be honoured, your Excellency.”  
Rising to his feet, Palpatine indicated that the audience was over, “I know that Obi-wan will be keen for you to address what the Jedi regard as weaknesses, however you must also focus on your strengths. In that way you will sail through your training in no time. And soon I will be addressing you as Master Skywalker, yes?”  
“I hope so, your Excellency.” Like Padmé, Anakin was slightly suspicious of the Chancellor’s knowledge, not only of events, but also of the inner workings of the Jedi Temple. Still, he had been a Senator and now Chancellor for many years and perhaps would have picked up information here and there.  
“Well Anakin, I could talk all day but unfortunately duty calls me, and I promised Senator Amidala that I would not keep you long.” Picking up his embellished over-gown, Palpatine said by way of explanation, “Senator Organa is to be inaugurated as Commander of the Grand Republic Army and I must preside.”  
“Thank you for your time,” said Anakin graciously. Despite his concerns about the Chancellor, he felt as though some terrible tension had finally been released.  
“It was no trouble Anakin. Please come and talk to me whenever you need to.”  
“Thank you, your Excellency.”

The polluted Coruscant sky stained the Jedi Temple a rosy pink; the grey stone reflecting the glittering rays of the sun. It was the first time that the Council had met since the battle of Geonosis. Out of respect, and the need to recuperate, the Council had been disbanded until new elections could be discussed at a more seemly time. Obi-wan joined Mace Windu and Master Yoda beside the tall, expansive windows of the Council Chamber, watching the bloated and heavy sun hover above the horizon. Beside them, recalled from his self-imposed exile in the Republic’s hour of need, Yoda was sat, deep in thought. But it was not only the Republic that was in need of succour. Already they had heard dissent amongst some of the Jedi over the course of action that the Senate was taking over the war. Some prominent members of the Council had begun to express sympathy with these views and it seemed the Council was not immune from the discontent experienced in the Senate.  
Mace Windu spoke first, “You are looking better Obi-wan.”  
“Thank you Master Windu. It has been a trying time.”  
“Indeed it has Obi-wan. Indications are that things are about to disintegrate further.”  
“What do you think of Count Dooku’s assertion that a Sith Lord is influencing the Senate?” asked Obi-wan. Across from the Temple could be seen the slumbering building, lying in shadows.  
“Lies and deception are the ways of Dooku now,” cautioned Yoda, “careful we must be with this allegation.”  
“I agree, we must be on our guard,” added Mace Windu, “there are still a great many puzzles left to solve.” After a pause, “Has Anakin returned to the Temple?”  
“He will, after his audience with the Chancellor.”  
There had been some concern about the Chancellor’s continuing interest in Anakin, “Hopefully now we can remove him from the political manoeuvrings and complete his training.”  
“He has assured me that he is ready for more intensive training.”  
“Excellent,” smiled Mace, “we need to advance as many padawans as we can to the next stage, particularly our more gifted students.”  
“I am also glad that we can remove Anakin from the influence of Senator Amidala,” continued Obi-wan keen to impress upon the Council that recent events had not been a result of Anakin’s wilfulness. “She is not as mindful of the sacrifices that he must make or the Code he must observe, and as a consequence is liable to entice him to assist her more irresponsible actions.”  
“Great determination demonstrated he did in her protection so I believe.” Yoda listened with careful attention.  
“I do not dispute that, Master Yoda. But Anakin needs guidance. He has many abilities and displays great strength in the Force but he cannot control it easily, particularly when there are other... distractions.”  
“Distractions?” Windu considered the information.   
“At times he displays an extremity of emotion which makes it difficult for him to focus his mind. His feelings cloud his judgment.”  
“Observed this you have?” asked Yoda. When Obi-wan nodded, the venerable Jedi Master wondered if this was the cause of the fissures of pain he had felt in the Force. “Always a great disturbance around him there is.”  
“Recently he has experienced great sadness and pain,” continued Obi-wan, “he has seen his friends in great danger, he witnessed the death of his mother. This seemed to provoke within him a great amount of fear and anger which he has found difficult to manage and, as a consequence, he has been impetuous. I hope that with the next stage of training I can help him to let go of these emotions and channel the positive side of the Force into his actions.”  
“I see.” Master Windu returned to the view from the window. “I imagine this will be a challenging task. Those emotions you speak of are not easily surrendered.”  
“I know.” Obi-wan felt some qualms about relating his concerns to the Council without Anakin here to defend himself but he did not want them to underestimate the strain that the young man was under. “However, I have Qui-Gon’s example to guide me and Anakin himself is in full possession of his faults, he wants to work on them as much as I do.”  
The venerable Jedi Master frowned. “Much hard work this will be, support you we will. Great care must be taken.” Although Yoda did not utter the words all three Jedi knew what the consequences might be and they did not want to drive their most gifted padawan into the arms of the Dark side just as it seemed it was enjoying a resurgence in power.

At the same time the Republic troops were beginning to gather for the inauguration ceremony close to the newly erected barracks on the eastern side of the city, their white armour gleaming in the bright sunlight. Standing on the balcony, looking over the vast, hastily constructed parade ground, were Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, newly granted holder of emergency powers, Senator Organa, Admiral and Commander of the Army, various other senators and a phalanx of Republic guards. They watched impassively as the thousands upon thousands of Republic troops paraded in strict formation, moving forward seamlessly to enter the multitude of assault cruisers, many of which were already lifting into the red-streaked sky with their deadly consignments. They were heading out to prepare for their engagement with the enemy, the combined forces of the CLONE, the Inter-Planetary Guilds and the Separatists.  
On closer inspection the faces of those watching the military might of the Republic were not so emotionless. Palpatine’s heavily lidded eyes showed deep sadness. Everything he had tried to prevent had come to pass; it was end of peace in the Republic. He watched as the troops poured across the square, his hopes of a swift end to the rebellion fading as he considered the powers stacked against them.  
Behind him, Senator Organa, the privately reluctant leader of the Grand Army, pounded his fist silently on the edge of the balcony, wondering how it had come to this. Like Senator Amidala he had fought the slide into war and was as confused as she was about the existence of the Grand Republic Army. However, like the Chancellor he knew that now the fires of war had been stoked there was no going back.


End file.
